And Hell Followed

by Mark Scott

  Chapter Twelve

  Martin shot and killed three squirrels. With some difficulty he managed to clean them and roast them on his grill. Fresh broccoli and scallion from the garden completed the dinner. Martin brought the dinner to Leah's door and knocked. He stepped back, off of the walkway and into the grass. Leah opened the door. Martin was appalled. The once beautiful face was sallow and pale. The brilliant green eyes were now framed by dark circles.

  "Thank you so much Bruce. Are you doing OK?"

  Martin wanted desperately to tell her of the attack and how he was forced to defend himself but it seemed trivial now. Leah was obviously exhausted and maybe even sick.

  "I'm OK, you doin' alright?"

  "I'm not feelin' real good. I'm afraid that I might be coming down with it."

  "Well, that is squirrel and some veggies. Eat, if you're getting sick you're gonna need your energy to fight it."

  Leah nodded her concurrence and thanked Martin again as she closed the door. Martin stood there staring at the closed doors. He felt very alone.

  The next day Martin walked up to the sanctuary to fill his buckets with water. He went to start the generator so he could operate the pump and was shocked to see that the generator was gone. He was panicked at the realization that they may no longer have a source of fresh water. Martin returned to Leah's apartment to see if they knew of the generator's disappearance. When he knocked on the door it slowly drifted open. The apartment was dark and stuffy. Martin stood at the door and called out to Leah. The only response was the barking cough that the world had come to dread. "Oh God, please help me", Martin sighed, resigned to the fact that his sanctuary had finally come to an end. The virus would kill his friends and himself after all. Martin stepped into the room. The virus' presence could be felt in the air. The atmosphere was hot and heavy. The only sound was a rhythmic heavy breathing that ended in a wheeze. It came from Martin's left. Moving in that direction Martin strained to see in the darkness. He could make out Leah slumped in a recliner. Over on the bed was another person and yet another on the couch. Moving over to the bed he saw that it was a young teenaged girl. The ashen complexion and deep purple around the jaw line told Martin that she was dead. He went over to the couch and saw that it was Sister Loretta and she too was deceased. Martin smoothed the girl's hair as best he could and then he brought the sheets around to enshroud her. As gently as possible he drug her off of the bed and laid her upon the floor. He pulled the comforter off of the bed and laid it out on the floor next to the couch and pulled the nun down onto it. He wrapped her body as well. Next he returned to Leah and lifted her out of the chair. He cradled her in his arms and staggered under her weight over to the bed. He laid her down on it. He went to the bathroom and soaked a wash cloth in a little bowl of water. He wiped Leah's face with it. Her skin was hot to the touch. He brushed her hair back. She opened her eyes and whispered, "Water." Martin was relieved when she closed her eyes and slipped back into unconsciousness. Martin knew that he must find fresh water as soon as possible.

  Moving as though he was in a daze Martin retuned to the tool shed and retrieved a shovel. He went into the cemetery looking for an area to dig two graves. He could find no such space. Martin resorted to an area under a massive old oak tree just outside of the cemetery's old coquina wall. He dug two graves. By the time he finished burying the young woman and the nun it was twilight. Exhausted Martin slumped down, back against the oak. He was very thirsty but there was no fresh water. Martin returned to his cabin and grabbed a pillow case. Going back to the shed he took a bucket and went to the pond in front of the sanctuary. He filled it with the tannic, stagnant water. He placed the pillow case in another bucket and filtered the pond water through it. He lugged this bucket back to his cabin and placed the water in a pot and boiled it for a full twenty minutes. After it cooled he finally had his first drink in nearly twenty four hours. He returned to Leah's apartment, praying to God on high that she was still alive. Entering the dank apartment he went up to her and lifted her head. He placed the cup of water to her lips. She took a sip and closed her eyes again. Once he was sure that Leah was sleeping again he went down the breeze way to the priest's apartment. He opened the door and walked in. He heard a feeble voice whisper, "Help me Bruce." Martin walked in the direction of the voice and he came upon Father Gonzalez lying on the couch. His face was a bluish gray and he had dried blood around the corners of his mouth. He tried to lift himself as he spoke in a barely audible voice. "Communion" was all he managed to utter before he fell back down onto the couch. Martin dashed from the room and over to the sanctuary. Going into the back room behind the alter he found a bottle of wine and a bag of communion wafers. He was so weak from dehydration and malnutrition that he could only manage a brisk walk back to the parsonage. Entering the apartment he spoke to the priest to let him know that it was him. He located a glass and poured the wine into it. Going over to Father Gonzalez he knelt down beside him. The priest opened his eyes. Martin made the sign of the cross over the wafer and helped the priest to raise his head. Martin placed the wafer in the priest's mouth as he spoke. "Take, eat, this is the body of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, given into death for your sins." Then Martin took the glass of wine and made the sign of the cross over it and placed the wine to Father Gonzalez's lips and said, "Take, drink, this is the true blood of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, shed for your sins." Standing beside the priest Martin made the sign of the cross over him and said, "May the Lord bless you and keep you. May he make his face to shine upon you and be gracious unto you. May he lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace."

  The priest stretched out his hand towards Martin. Taking the good Father's hand Martin knelt down beside him and held his hand until the priest breathed no more. Martin felt as though he should weep but there was nothing left, he was emotionally depleted.

  Even though he had been exposed to the virus Martin continued to hope against hope that he had escaped infection. Not wishing to leave his friends unattended he constructed a bed in the grass just off of the walkway that ran in front of the apartments. He lay there staring up at the stars, all the brighter in a sky not polluted by the artificial light of civilization, lamenting how he loved the Earth and had no desire to depart from this magical place. He marveled at the majesty of the cosmos and the brutality of the occupants of this little orb. He also realized that he must find both nourishment and fresh water if he and his friends were to survive.

  The next morning he rummaged through what was left of the food pantry which was pretty much a couple boxes of noodles and a jar of beef bouillon cubes. The cubes would suffice for now. They would provide both sodium and liquid, both sapped from the body of the infected. Martin stirred a cube into the disgusting pond water and gave it to Leah and Father Ryan. He felt that he was flirting with disaster with the pond water. The boiling had killed any microbes but he was unsure of the continued use. He resolved that for the benefit of his friends and himself he would have to venture into the city. He decided he would strike out that night.

  For the first time months Martin left the safety of the church grounds and slipped into the dark streets of Miami. He trotted along dark streets of the business district. He passed burned out buildings, their gaping empty windows bore mute testimony to the violence that had erupted. The streets were totally silent. Martin saw no sign of life at all. The smell of smoke wafted through the cold night. Martin came upon a group of cars that had been abandoned in a parking lot. Each of them had their gas tank hatches open as if somebody had scavenged gas from them. Martin sat down next to one of the cars. He leaned back against it and looked around nervously. He felt a fear of the virus. His friends had been infected, even in the relative safety of their sanctuary. Martin could almost feel the virus, out there, invisible and waiting. His skin crawled. Thoughts of his friends inspired Martin to his feet once more even though he was tired and his body was terribly weakened by an inadequate diet. He pressed on passing abandoned vehicles of a
ll descriptions. Store after store sat vacant with shattered windows. Martin noticed something unusual about some of the buildings. They were not stores but offices. Curious as to what commodity an office could offer he approached one. It was an Attorney's office. He stepped through the shattered glass doors. His sense of smell was immediately greeted by the strong odor of smoke. The glass crackled under foot. The office had been set on fire. Martin continued his quest looking for someplace that was not obviously vandalized that might have some food and water. Along the way he stopped and a half dozen other law offices, all had been looted and set afire.

  Martin pressed on though he could feel what little energy he had left quickly waning. The sidewalk suddenly became illuminated. Martin looked up to the sky to behold a massive fireball streaking across the sky leaving a broken necklace of glowing orbs behind it. At first he was amazed but then fear set in as he wondered if this was a nuclear missile. Suddenly he heard voices very near to him.

  "What the hell was that?"

  "Don't know. It's definitely something different. Never saw anything like that before."

  "It's a sign, ya know from Revelations, its Wormwood."

  "It's what? Whoa! Contact! Contact at twelve-o-clock!"

  Martin was immediately illuminated in bright lights. He could see ethereal figures moving through the light and coming towards him.

  "Down on your knees. Lace your fingers together behind your head", boomed a command from the light. Martin did as he was commanded. A tall black man dressed in civilian clothes but carrying a military assault rifle stepped forward. His face was hidden behind a surgical mask. He roughly grabbed one of Martin's arms by the wrist and spun it around behind his back. Martin groaned with discomfort as yet another armed civilian stepped forward and did the same with his other arm before tying them together with a ty-rap. Then the two men each grabbed him by an elbow and yanked him to his feet. He was frisked. His wallet was removed from his back pocket.

  "He's clean."

  "Well, well, well...let's see what we got here."

  A shorter and older man stepped forward as the light dimmed and they were now only illuminated by little flashlights with red filters. He was surprised to see a half dozen heavily armed men, all of their faces hidden behind surgical masks, standing next to an old Ford pickup truck. Three of the men had their weapons pointed at Martin. Another stood behind a fifty caliber machine gun that was mounted in the bed of the truck. The men, though civilians seemed to Martin to have been battle tested. Some wore ammo belts across their shoulders while others had grenades. One of the soldiers, their apparent leader stepped forward. Martin's wallet was tossed to the leader. He flipped through the wallet and suddenly stopped and looked up at Martin.

  "Fellas, looks like we've caught us a member of the press", said the leader. Martin was surprised to find himself remaining so calm. The whole scene seemed almost unreal. Martin was hustled into the bed of the truck and it sped off. Within a few minutes the vehicle rolled to a stop. Martin was escorted across a dark parking lot and into a square concrete building that he recognized as the National Guard armory. He was surrounded by the men who had captured him as he was hustled through dark corridors dimly lit in a faint green light from glow sticks hanging from the ceiling. They entered a large room that was well lit with kerosene lanterns. They shoved Martin before a Colonel in the National Guard sitting behind a large wooden desk. The officer looked up at Martin. The platoon leader stepped forward and tossed Martin's wallet upon the desk.

  "You're Bruce Martin?"

  "Yes."

  "You're a reporter with the Biscayne Sun?"

  "I was before the plague."

  "You have guts Mister Martin. Most of your kind are sniffling cowards and deny that they were with the press. Guess you're not afraid huh?"

  "Afraid? Afraid of what?"

  "Afraid of what?" laughed the Colonel. "You been livin' in a cave? Many of the press have been in imprisoned with charges of conspiracy of treason. Some have been hanged."

  Martin stood staring dumbfounded at the Colonel. He had lost contact with the world over the last six weeks. "Colonel..." Martin turned to see a young soldier step forward.

  "Yeah Dodge?"

  "Colonel I think that this is the Bruce Martin....ya know the reporter that was on the internet warning that the flu was a terrorist attack. Remember? Nobody knew what had happened to him....I think that this might be the guy."

  The Colonel walked around from the desk and stood before Martin.

  "That right? Are you the reporter who alerted us? "

  "I'm Bruce Martin. I had a video on the internet where I told all that I knew about this flu. I warned people in chat rooms. But they took my site down. I couldn't come out of hiding, they were after me."

  "Who was after you?"

  "I really don't know...some kind of government agency. A Colonel Davis sent help."

  "The Colonel Davis? One of the Liberty Coalition?"

  "I don't know anything about a Liberty Coalition. The Colonel Davis I'm talking about was the man that I went to initially to tell them about what I knew concerning this virus. He told me that he and others were already moving to take control from the current government and attack the virus and the terrorist that did this."

  "Colonel Davis is the acting secretary of Defense. The Liberty Coalition is a group of civilian and military leaders who are running the government. The President tried to nullify November's elections by manipulating Martial law. The Congress and Justices have fled; others have been arrested on treason charges. Twelve are awaiting appeals of death sentences. Those appeals won't even take six months...things have changed dramatically...most think the change is for the better. But the Nation has suffered tremendously. The flu has had a horrible impact on us. On the whole world."

  "My friends are starving...they're sick and can't find food or water."

  The Colonel looked slightly puzzled. "You're neighborhood Marshal isn't distributing food and water? You're friends have the flu?"

  "I don't know anything about a neighborhood Marshal or what that is...we were hiding, on our own."

  "Of course. Mister Martin we can help your friends. There are drugs that won't cure but they can help and survival chances are much better if you take these drugs. Where are your friends? We will take supplies to them and bring a doctor to those who are sick. The hospitals are only used for emergency surgery and trauma. The flu is treated at home. You're looking a little puny", said the Colonel suddenly eyeing Martin with an apparent apprehension as he took a step back from him. "Have you had the flu?"

  "No sir,"

  "How long ago did your friends come down with the flu?"

  "A few days ago."

  "What's a few days? It's very important...I need to know exactly how many days ago they became ill."

  Martin stood staring at the ground concentrating. "It was two, maybe three days ago. I don't really know, everything is kind of blurry."

  The Colonel motioned to a soldier behind him, all the while not taking his eyes off Martin. The soldier handed the Colonel a surgical mask which the he then gave to Martin. "I'm afraid you'll have to wear this Mister Martin. The incubation period is ten days, give or take." The soldier cut Martin's wrists free. Martin took the mask and put it on.

  "Now son, where are your friends at? We'll get them the help they need, some good food, some fresh water and medical attention."

  "I would prefer to take the supplies myself" said Martin in a defiant tone that surprised everyone, including Martin.

  "Ahhh, don't trust us? Very well, I can understand that. But Bruce, may I call you Bruce?" Martin nodded. "Bruce Your friends need real help fast. I need to know where they are if they are going to make it, Sergeant Pratt!"

  "Yes sir!", replied a middle aged woman stepping briskly forward.

  "Now Bruce you tell Sergeant Pratt where your friends are." Martin realized that he had to gamble on trusting the soldiers if Leah and the Father were going to make it. Mar
tin relented. The Colonel spun around and looked at Martin compassionately. "Our medics will help your friends. Mister Martin, when was the last time that you had a decent meal?"

  "It's been a little while."

  "Milton!" the cook came trotting into the room from the glowing hallway. "Got any of that pork from dinner?"

  "Yes sir."

  "How about fixing a plate for Mister Martin here. Martin, you seem to have been out of the loop. Why don't ya have a seat and make yourself comfortable. I'm sure that you have some questions about what's been going on, huh?" Within minutes Martin had been served a plate full of meat and fresh vegetables. The Colonel sat across from Martin studying him intently as Martin leaned over the plate and eagerly shoveled food into his mouth. Martin looked up and spoke through a mouth full of food, "This is delicious!"

  "Good huh? The pork is feral hog. Hunter teams from the different neighborhoods go out into the glades and hunt hog and deer, even gator. The vegetables came from farms out there. The neighborhoods each have their own vegetable plots. Everybody pretty much chips in these days."

  "It's been almost six weeks since the first full blown outbreak. We hear over twenty million have died in the U.S. alone. Our count here in Dade County is forty five thousand. More die every day. The government pretty much collapsed after the people figured out that those bastards in D.C. were selling this country part and parcel for profit instead of doing their job and protecting the citizens. Ya know those SOBs even tried to call in the UN? The UN agreed, saying that the U.S. was too important to the global economy to risk a people's revolt. Can you believe that? The rest of the world thinks we're their personal bank and police force. To hell with the rest of the world!"

  "They sent a U.N. plane here to Miami and several helos! Those socialist bastards didn't even get off the plane before we tore their asses up! We sent them home in body bags!" said a young soldier, his face contorted with a seething anger.

  "Anyhow, most of the politicians tried to run overseas or to Mexico", the Colonel continued, "Some made it; others are on trial for high treason. Still others were cornered like rats and killed themselves."

  "No great loss!" said another young soldier, drawing the Colonel and Martin's attention to his sudden outburst.

  The Colonel half smiled at the remark. Turning back to Martin he continued speaking, "Ya see the animosity the country has for the old government. Not our constitutional government mind you, but the perversion of it by the former leadership, especially the judiciary. I wouldn't want to be an attorney these days." The Colonel said with a mocking chuckle.

  Martin suddenly halted his frenzied eating, fork frozen mid-way between plate and mouth. He looked up at the Colonel and gulped down the food in his mouth so that he could speak. "I saw a lot of attorney's offices burned and ransacked."

  "A lot? Try every damn one. Most of the nation's woes are traced back to those low lifes! Kids couldn't go out and play like free children! Citizen suing citizen for every little damn thing they can! Millions and millions of kids and full grown adults murdered or missing. Our kids and women raped and dumped in ditches like so much garbage! And what happens to the criminal, they let them go! They defend them...ohh he was an abused child. They register them as a sex offender and tell them 'behave yourself'. The courts twisted and perverted the law, almost everybody on Capitol Hill are lawyers. Lawyers have destroyed this nation and what it stood for. Well, we have finally awakened and took back what was ours! For the people ya know." The Colonels volume dropped slightly and he looked down at the table as he brushed some crumbs aside, "I don't know, this flu, maybe in a weird sort of way is a good thing, maybe that's what we needed to wake us up out of our fat, dumb and happy stupor...I don't know."

  Martin finished his meal and pushed himself away from the table. "Had enough to eat Mister Martin?"

  "Yes, thanks very much, perhaps I ate too much too fast, I feel a little queasy."

  "Please put your mask back on, we've only had two of my men come down with the flu, like to keep it that way." Martin dutifully pulled his mask up over his face. "It's normal to feel a little puny after eating when one has been on survival rations. I would like to show you a few things tomorrow Mister Martin, after all you are a national hero and one of the few reporters that people trust. Your profession has fared only slightly better than the lawyers. The press empowered the crap coming out of Washington and many of your colleagues are imprisoned or dead. But I think that what you'll see tomorrow will blow your mind. I think you've had enough for today. There is a lot more news that you may not know about. Why don't you get a few hours of sleep. The first thing I want to show you takes place early, at dawn. Sergeant Pratt will escort you to the barracks. Sound good?"

  Martin was worried about his friends but he was exhausted. He also needed the help of these soldiers if he could trust them. He resigned himself to stay the day tomorrow and head back to the church in the afternoon. Martin thanked the Colonel for his hospitality and informed him that he would like to accompany him in the morning. Martin followed the sergeant along the dark hallway, lit only in the glow of the chemlights. The soldier took Martin to a vacant officer's quarters. Martin entered and fell onto the bed and fell into unconsciousness.