Project Terminus

by Nathan Combs

  Although she lacked people and firepower, she possessed the most important weapon of all. Locked away in her mind was the formula for Saadeh’s hallucinogenic concoction, which he called “the juice.”

  Walking down the two ranks of cannibals, she stopped and looked each one in the eye and asked, “Do you pledge your life to me?”

  She asked that question to fifty-one of the fifty-two cannibals and received fifty-one loud and very clear yeses. The last person in the last row, a pretty girl in her late teens, was crying, silently. Tears trickled down her filthy cheeks and silent sobs wracked her frail body.

  Taking the girl’s face in her hands, she asked, “Do you pledge your life to me?”

  The girl grasped Nina’s hands and nodded. Then she growled, “Yes, my Queen, and when we find them, we’re going to kill and eat every one of those motherfuckers.”

  Nina smiled and said, “What’s your name?”

  “My name’s Heather,” the girl replied.

  Chapter Ten

  ORNL

  Roger Jackson was a field administrator for the Federal Protective Service (FPS), a division of the Department of Homeland Security. He oversaw the Oak Ridge National Laboratory in Oak Ridge, Tennessee located west of Knoxville. Jackson had no military experience and zero expertise in the security field, but he did have friends in high places. Because Jackson was single, he spent a lot of time at the ORNL. It was the only place his miniscule ego was ever stroked. It wasn’t his place to do so, and his constant firearm inspections and snide uniform comments didn’t endear him to the security forces he oversaw. Roger Jackson was not only a political appointee; he was a pain in the ass. While he had no practical knowledge of the security protocols ensuring the ORNL was secure, he was far from stupid. He was a realist and an opportunist; when the monetary system collapsed during this last visit, he decided it would be prudent to remain at the ORNL until things shook out.

  The day after the first EMP sent the country to the Stone Age, Jackson met with Captain Eric Martinez, the security forces commander, and informed him he was assuming command. He promptly promoted himself to colonel, and because Jackson was his superior, Martinez had no choice but to go along with it, even though he knew Jackson wasn’t capable of commanding a Cub Scout troop.

  The ORNL had a huge advantage over other survival sites in the country because it contained a small nuclear reactor that could be connected to the complex’s power grid, and could keep the laboratory functional for twenty plus years. In addition, there were two hardened shelters with enough food, medical supplies, and other gear to sustain four hundred people for two years. Within days, all one hundred FPS guards and their families, consisting of ninety-seven women and one hundred nineteen children, were sheltered within the ORNL.

  The second EMP severed Jackson’s communications with other governmental agencies. He knew portions of the eastern seaboard were a nuclear wasteland, the president was MIA, and congress was incapacitated. And he knew that what was left of the military assumed limited control over what was left of the country. He decided he was on his own, so began formulating his own survival plan.

  When the plague hit, Jackson decided the only way to survive it was to seal himself off from everyone outside of the ORNL. He incorporated key civilians into his group; medical staff, those with the ability to maintain the nuclear reactor, and others whose expertise he considered useful. He completely sealed off the portion of the ORNL that contained the reactor, as well as the deep wells used for cooling. He also took control of the shelters and other key facilities. He ordered a razor wire fence constructed around that portion of the facility, and had a huge sign erected three hundred feet from the fence:

  STOP! ANYONE PROCEEDING BEYOND THIS POINT WILL BE SHOT

  He instructed his men to kill anyone who passed that sign. No exceptions. To ensure his orders were followed, he used the guards’ families against them by explaining that while the order was harsh, it was the only way their families could survive the plague.

  The first six months of the plague were apocalyptic, and the guards shot and killed one hundred thirty seven people seeking sanctuary. The pile of bodies near the sign served as clear warning to those attempting refuge that the threat was real. Those who survived stayed far away from the FPS barricaded forces.

  By the time the plague began to wane, Jackson’s food supply was running low. When he determined it was safe, he sent patrols to explore what was left of society and scrounge for food and supplies. The initial reports were not good. The meager amount of food they came back with did little to offset their dwindling rations. Jackson was positive there were other survivors within a reasonable distance of the ORNL and devised a plan to find them, and to take their food and supplies. He renamed his troops Homeland Security Eastern Command (HSEC), and gathered them to explain the new mission.

  He told them the ORNL was the last remnant of the United States government, and as such, he was the de facto president of the United States. He explained it was their responsibility to locate and protect other survivors. His logic centered on the fact that no government could function without a source of income, which meant citizens paying taxes for services rendered. Since there was no currency in use, he determined food and other services would be accepted as payment.

  During the meeting, Captain Martinez stood and asked, “What will happen if people don’t have food to spare, or simply refuse to pay?

  Jackson said, “Any society with laws, especially tax laws, enacts a penalty for violation of those laws.”

  Captain Martinez said, “What will the penalty entail?”

  Jackson responded, “The penalty cannot include imprisonment, because we do not have the ability to incarcerate and care for offenders, but in certain instances, it will mean a firing squad.”

  Captain Martinez said, “Me and my men will not be party to the murder of survivors based on their ability to provide food or other services.”

  Jackson said, “Captain Martinez, your duty is to protect survivors and to enforce the laws of this government. And these are not your men. Are you telling me you will refuse to obey the directives of your commander in chief?”

  Martinez gave Jackson a cold, hard stare, but said nothing.

  Jackson said, “Very well.” In front of the entire assembly, he drew his pistol and shot Martinez in the head, killing him instantly. “Sergeant Stuart Benjamin, you just got promoted to Captain.” He then turned to the stunned men and women, and said, “There is no place in this new world for insubordination, mutiny, or treason. I promised you I would ensure the survival of you and your families, and I have kept my word. You and your families are still alive and healthy. If we are to continue to survive and prosper, and if we are to ultimately build a new society, it will require extreme measures to ensure our success. You may disagree with my methods, but you cannot argue with the results. If anyone else objects, step forward now. Otherwise, prepare for extended patrols to locate survivors.

  Jackson promoted Benjamin from Sergeant to Captain for two reasons. One, Benjamin was an expert military tactician, and two, he thought Benjamin could be controlled. He needed a liaison between himself and the guards.

  No one moved and no one said a word. Jackson had made his point. While they didn’t all embrace him, or his extortion plan, they now feared him. Crossing swords with self-appointed President Roger Jackson could easily result in their deaths and the death of their families. The majority decided silence was the better part of valor.

  Within six months, HSEC located and subjugated six small survival groups and two small communities in Tennessee totaling two hundred ninety seven souls. The new citizens were not happy about Jackson’s protection tax, but they were smart enough to read between the lines. Confronted by a group of armed men demanding food, horses, and other supplies in exchange for protection, they had no choice. In order to remain alive, they had to pay the tax.

  Jackson instructed his tax collectors to examine every food source they fou
nd, and to ensure they left enough food for the taxpayers to eat so they could provide more the next month. “In other words,” he said, “make sure they can stay alive and continue to pay their taxes on a monthly basis.”

  Six months later, Jackson was living like royalty. In fact, he now believed he was a king and that people thought of him as their king, and because of those “facts,” he decided it was time he started acting like a king. Sitting in his room, pondering his future kingdom, the thought occurred to him that he was the only king in history without a queen. He considered for a few minutes, then decided his subjects deserved to have both a king and a queen to rule them and resolved to select a worthy woman.

  There was a petite, redheaded physicist named Susan Small who was part of the nuclear team. Jackson thought she was hot, so decided she was a worthy candidate. He went to see her with the intent of asking her to be his queen. When face to face with her, his now inflated ego over-rode his common sense. He grabbed her arm and said, “I’ve selected you to be my queen. Get your personal stuff and come with me.”

  Susan was incredulous and replied, “What are you talking about?”

  Jackson stared at her. “It’s simple really, I require a right hand man. And I choose you.”

  With a look of disdain, she said, “Do I look like a man to you, Mr. Jackson?”

  “The keyword is right hand. Obviously you’re not a man. That’s the point. I’m a king, don’t you see? And every good king needs a queen, which, by the way, is traditionally female.”

  Everyone in the ORNL knew, or suspected, Jackson was bat-shit crazy, so in a hesitant voice she said, “You’re joking, right?”

  With a smirk, Jackson said, “A king does not jest, Susan.”

  Susan Small was suddenly very frightened. “What do you want me to do?”

  “You’re not stupid, Susan. You’ll do the things any good queen would do. It’s a done deal. On second thought, I’ll have your personal effects brought to our chambers. Let’s go.”

  King Jackson forcefully took his new queen’s arm and led her away.

  The day after Jackson made Susan Small his queen, he summoned Captain Stuart Benjamin to the dining area. Jackson began by saying, “We’re having a difficult time making ends meet, Captain, and thus need to expand our tax base. I want you to send a patrol over the mountains, into North Carolina. We can administer that area just as easily as we administer this section of Tennessee. Send your two best men and have them report back in two weeks.”

  Captain Benjamin did not like Roger Jackson, and certainly had no respect for him. He was positive Jackson was insane and constantly thought of ways to take him down. The problem was, since Jackson’s taxes provided food and other luxuries for the guards and their families, any attempt at a coup was risky. Of the ninety-eight guards remaining, Benjamin trusted seventeen of them. There were an additional seventeen that might side with him in a coup. If those numbers held, they would still be outnumbered three to one. Benjamin knew he would eventually have to kill Jackson, even if he wouldn’t be around to see how things turned out. But not right now. After receiving his instructions, he went to the Ops Center and called for Derrick Watts and Tyler Little Soldier to meet him in his office.

  Watts had been with the FPS for over ten years, and was one of the men in the unit Benjamin trusted. Tyler Little Soldier was half Sioux Indian and could track a deer over concrete, or at least that’s what he was fond of saying. While that was probably not true, it was true that Little Soldier could track a man anywhere. He was an excellent scout and an outstanding FPS agent, and Benjamin respected and trusted him.

  “Boys,” he began, “His excellency wants to find more subjects in North Carolina. Saddle up and see what you can find. Be back in two weeks.”

  Consulting the map, they decided to go over the Smoky Mountains and come down the Tail of the Dragon to check out Robbinsville. If they had time, they would go to Andrews, NC. The distance to Robbinsville was roughly 80 miles, and on horseback they could easily cover that distance in two days.

  The trip was uneventful. They saw no one. As they were entering Robbinsville on Tapoco Road, the sun was just peeking over the horizon. Little Soldier stopped and said, “Derrick, over there.” He pointed to what appeared to be a football field. Their instructions were to observe and report back, so they entered a grove of trees and watched.

  “Jesus, Derrick, that’s a shithouse full of people. It looks like they’re having some sort of ceremony.”

  “Yeah, something’s happening on the stage, but I can’t tell what. How many people do you think?”

  “Hmm…I’d say…maybe seven hundred.”

  “That sounds about ri—”

  The entire football field blew up.

  “Holy shit,” exclaimed Watts. “What the hell just happened?”

  Mouth agape, Little Soldier replied, “I don’t know, but offhand I’d say there are probably seven hundred less survivors for Jackson to tax.”

  As the huge black cloud began to dissipate, they saw three men come down from a hill on the west side of the field and enter the southernmost building of what was obviously a school. They heard distant, sporadic gunfire, and gave each other knowing looks.

  Tyler said, “They’re clearing the buildings.”

  A half hour later the three men emerged from the northern most building, and went back to the knoll they came from. Within minutes, they saw three people move into the woods to the rear of the knoll and disappear. Shortly, the three guys began to pile and burn the bodies.

  Little Soldier said, “Who the hell are these guys?”

  “I don’t know, Ty. They’re obviously military or ex-military. Whatever, man. They’re definitely pros.”

  Little Soldier wondered aloud, “Why the hell did they kill all those people?”

  Watts turned to Little Soldier and said, “Well, I don’t know about you, Tyler, but I’m not gonna go ask them.”

  “Yeah. Good point. Listen, Derrick, three of them already left. When these guys leave, I think we should follow them and find out where they go.”

  Watts looked questioningly at Little Soldier. “Can we do that without getting killed?”

  “Hey, I can track a deer across concrete, remember?”

  “Right. But a deer can’t shoot your ass.”

  “Well that’s true, Derrick, and it’s also true we can’t follow them on horses, but I can track them on foot. Here’s what we’ll do. Come with me as far as the knoll, just in case. Then you stay here and lay low. They’re obviously dangerous. I know there’s a lot of real estate separating them from our families, but I’m not taking any chances. I’ll follow them and gather as much Intel as I can, then we’ll get back and brief the boss.”

  Several hours later, the men finished piling the bodies, ignited an explosive device, and climbed the hill. They watched it burn for a minute, turned, and disappeared.

  “Okay, Derrick, they’re leaving. Let’s go.”

  ******

  When Little Soldier got to the hide, he counted the body depressions and started tracking. The sign indicated there were seven people, one of whom was probably a female. He sent Derrick back to the horses, then two miles down the highway, picked up the track as it entered a forest service road. The trail was simple to follow, and since they weren’t attempting to cover their tracks, it was like walking down the interstate.

  When Nina sent him to follow the two men, Cougar took a moment to study the terrain. Before he could decide which route to the knoll would provide the best cover, he saw one of them go back to the grove of trees. When he reached the hilltop, he followed the track to the highway. It took him less than ten minutes to find the service trail they were using. More than enough sign was available and he was able to follow at a fast walk. An hour later, he caught a glimpse of the man he was tracking one hundred yards ahead of him. He settled into stalking mode.

  The bizarre parade through the North Carolina wilderness continued for several hours. Wade, Ran
dal, Sean, and Highlander were double timing it to Fort-T, and Tyler Little Soldier was following them. Cougar brought up the rear behind Little Soldier.

  Tyler Little Soldier was good, but as the trail weaved in and out of blacktop and service roads, he got nervous. This is some serious shit right here, he thought. I hope to hell they aren’t going much farther.

  Always conscious the men he was trailing would slough someone off to cover their six, he stopped every mile, hunkered down, and watched. Time after time one of them came out of the brush and hustled back down the trail. Four hours later, the men left the blacktop road and entered what used to be a service road. He estimated they had gone twenty miles, and stopped again to see if one of them was watching their six. This time it was clear, and since he hadn’t seen anyone for over an hour, he suspected they were getting close to their destination. The sun was down and it was getting dark, but a rising full moon would soon provide enough light to see. Until then, he decided to use his night vision goggles. Flipping them down, he continued to follow. The trail wound down the valley alongside a small river. Coming around a slight bend, he sensed rather than saw the OP. He froze, then crouched and crawled into the brush on the left side of the trail. Peering through the bushes, he could see the four men he was tracking talking to a fifth.

  Damn, I almost walked right into that.

  He knew from looking at the area map there was nothing there except wilderness, and assumed they had a camp somewhere close by. He sniffed the air, but didn’t smell smoke, and listened, but the only sound was the rustle of the leaves on the trees. Now that he knew the approximate location of their base, he decided it was too dangerous to go any farther. God only knew how many more “hides” there were between this one and their main base, or camp, or whatever the hell they called where they lived. He decided to watch what direction they went or see if they stayed put.

  Cougar almost duplicated Little Soldier’s error. He didn’t have night vision, but the moon was bright enough he was able to continue tracking the man. Soon after they left the service road and started up a long valley, he came around a slight bend in the trail and barely saw the man stop, crouch, and crawl into cover. Cougar did the same. He knew the guy was looking at something, but he didn’t know what. He decided to cross the track and get a different perspective. Backtracking to the curvature in the trail, he crossed and came up on the right side about a hundred feet behind and to the right of his quarry. He could see the guys who killed his brothers and sisters right in front of him, not more than one hundred yards away.