“Ready,” he commanded himself aloud, barely able to speak, and engaged the bolt to ready a round. “Aim,” he said, his voice quivering. He flipped the site and looked through it with the barrel pointing up to the grim colored horizon.
“Fire,” Jackson yelled as if to blast away the pain he felt inside as the first bullet exploded through the barrel of the old rifle. “Ad infinitum, dad,” he said softly aloud as he looked to the sky, remembering the last time his father told Jackson his love for him would live to infinity.
Stan said it in Latin, his favorite and well-studied language. He taught philosophy at Jackson’s high school, a second career as a teacher after his time in the military. He used to tell his students that Latin was the language of laws, logic and love and they would be better off knowing how to speak it. He spoke in Latin all the time.
Every animal within earshot ran for safety following the shot. Every bird in the nearby trees flew away.
Jackson repeated the process again, and then a third time, shooting into the sky with the precision of a drill team.
He walked back towards his son, staring at him while Taps played in his head. “It’s called a three volley salute in the service. Only with one gun on this occasion. ”
Jax thought of the 8x10 photo of his father back home wearing his Marine formals. It hung on the wall in the hallway. Jax suddenly felt a sense of pride.
“Have to say,” Jackson continued as he seemed to caress the rifle. “That felt good.”
“It was nice.”
“Three bullets left in her. Wanna’ fire them yourself?”
“Me?”
“Yes. Come take the rifle.”
Jax walked close to Jackson.
“Hang on.” Jackson applied the safety and handed the weapon to his son. “Hold onto it for a minute. Don’t shoot me.”
Jax laughed as Jackson picked up the bag of fruit and walked over to a nearby tree that was growing sideways.
“That’s a cool looking tree,” Jax said as he raised the rifle to the sky and looked through the site.
Jackson studied the tree, noticing that the thick brush above it blocked most of the sunlight from getting to it, though enough got through to bloom bright, almost neon green algae all over it. It looked like something out of a storybook.
“It’s growing towards that little bit of light there.”
Jackson pulled an orange, an apple and a pear out of the bag as the light disappeared again. He stuffed the empty bag into his pocket and placed each piece of fruit side by side six inches apart from each other on the sideways tree.
He jogged back over to Jax who was again looking up to the sky through the rifle sight.
“Live your life like that, son.”
“Huh?”
“Seek out the light, even where there doesn’t seem to be anything but darkness in your path. Okay? That’s the kind of magic you are.”
“Okay.” He found the advice strange, but understood what his father meant. “Hey. I thought we were going to eat those.”
“We were. Now you are going to shoot them.”
“Awesome!” Jax said with a big smile.
“Look through the site. Steady the rifle,” Jackson said as he helped the fifteen year old position the long, century old rifle. “Aim for the orange.”
Jax steadied the rifle and concentrated on the target as his father backed slightly away.
“Calm yourself. Breathe. Good. Now this old beast has quite a kick so get ready for that. Fire when you’re ready.”
“Okay.”
“Remember, she’s like a woman. Be confident with her. Don’t fight her. Go with the flow and handle her gently. Close your eyes and notice how she feels in your hands. Become one with her.”
“Okay, dad.”
Seconds later, Jax fired the rifle and obliterated the orange as his body recoiled backwards. “Holy shit! I did it! Sorry, dad. I mean holy smokes!”
The few birds that had returned to the tree flew away again.
“Shit yeah, you did!”
They embraced.
“You’re a natural, kid! You ready to take out the apple or pear next?”
“I don’t much like pears.”
“The pear it is. Calm yourself. Breathe.”
Jax took aim at the pear and relaxed as Jackson stepped away; the wind gusted and thunder began to boom in the sky above.
“Discharge the used round.”
Jax tried to discharge the empty shell but the bolt jammed. He tried vigorously to move it, but it was stuck in place. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked.
Before Jackson could answer, a massive swarm of bugs suddenly consumed the airspace in the woods. They came out of nowhere as if the heavens opened up and dropped them.
“What are they? Grasshoppers?” Jax yelled over the fluttering of their wings and rumbling thunder. He dropped the Enfield on the ground.
“Locusts!” Jackson exclaimed as he retrieved the plastic grocery bag from his pocket. “It can’t be!”
An entomologist’s dream.
Jackson opened the bag and swiped it through the air a couple times, the wind providing resistance. A handful of the flying insects ended up in the bag after a few tries, but they all flew out before he could tie it closed.
All but one.
“Where are they going?” Jax asked as his head swiveled around in the chaos, trying not to let any of the bugs end up in his mouth while his father ripped a few small tears in the bag.
“So it can breathe,” he said to Jax who walked up to him, watching every move.
“You got one?”
Jackson nodded. “This is in incredible.”
“Why?”
“Locusts. Here. Unbelievable.”
“You mean In Virginia?”
“I mean in the United States. We haven’t had locusts in this country in over a hundred years. And this one is interesting. I’ve never seen this color pattern before.”
“What species is it?”
“That’s the thing. I have no idea.” Jackson looked around at the bugs flying past him with the swirling wind pushing them along. “These colors aren’t familiar to me at all.”
The sky was suddenly just one color.
Black.
The mystical blue hue in the woods was gone.
“Looks like a grasshopper.”
“It is, essentially. But when they do this.” Jackson looked around at all the bugs swarming around and past him. “That’s how you know they’re locusts.”
“They look so cool.”
“I know.” Jackson smiled and then ducked as a bolt of lightning crashed down close. “We should get out of here before we get killed.”
Jackson looked around for the Enfield and spotted it in the grass nearby. As he reached down and picked it up, he felt the bite of a mosquito near his left elbow. He dropped the rifle and gave the mosquito a quick smack. The splotch of blood on his skin let him know the mosquito fed. He was too late.
“Damn.”
“What?” Jax asked as he waited for his father.
“Nothing,” Jackson replied just as another morning lightning bolt crashed down to the ground. “Jesus that was close!
“Just a mosquito bite. No big deal. Let’s get out of here before we get fried. This lightning ain’t playing.”
Jackson picked up the rifle again and the two walked quickly back up the steep hill to the truck, leaving the pear as well as the apple behind on the tree branch.
“That’s odd,” Jackson said to Jax when they reached the bridge.
“What?” Jax asked as he pet jumper through the opening in the window. He was happy to see them. He hated lightning.
“No locusts here.” Jackson turned around in a circle, looking around the entire area as other cars tore past them. “Not a single one.”
Jackson carefully placed the bag on the dash inside the truck. Then he walked back to the edge of the highway and looked down the hill. He peered into the woods longingly,
as if he had left his best friend in the thickets.
“I expected them to have infiltrated the truck by now.”
Jax sat in the truck with the window down, a foot from his father. “You hoped.”
“Yeah,” Jackson laughed. “Where did you go?” he asked the air, seeing no locusts anywhere now, as if it was all a dream.
Another bolt of electricity crackled in the sky as hard rain began to pour down.
“Let’s go, dad,” Jax said over the sound of pelting deluge.
Jackson rushed into the truck drenched and pet Jumper. Then he picked up the bag with the frantic, flying bug inside. Not a dream. He pushed the rainwater off his eyes. “A lot of pressure to keep this guy alive now.”
Suddenly, he remembered his father just died. He forgot about it for a few minutes, thanks to the little insect in the bag. It made him sad to realize that, but he was thankful for it at the same time. He spent so much time hoping his father would die, to end the suffering. Now, he would give anything to have him back, and to keep the locust alive.
“Stay alive, little guy.” He put the bag back on the dash and pulled into traffic, heading north into the gray, gloom.
Jax couldn’t take his eyes off the bag as the truck headed north. “I don’t think he likes it in there.”
“I imagine not. He wants to fly. That’s what he is built to do, at least in this phase of his life. Instinct.”
“What are we going to do with it? He won’t live long in that bag, I don’t think.”
“We’ll do our best to keep it alive until we get back to Atlanta. We need to stop and get a jar or something for it. I want to get it to the lab at the University.”
“Why?”
“To study it.”
“It’s a big deal then?”
“Oh yeah. Quite a find. A new species of locust. At least, I think it is. We need to learn as much as we can about it. We need to take a picture.”
“I recorded them all flying by on my GoPro.”
“Oh, excellent! Can’t let anything happen to that footage. No one will believe me as it is,” Jackson joked.
The insect was frenetic inside the bag.
“Looks like being studied is the last thing it wants.”
“That’s science.” Jackson fervently scratched his left elbow, neither of his hands on the steering wheel. “Damn mosquito!”
“Mom says not to itch them. Just makes it worse.”
“Easier said than done.”
“I know.”
Jax displayed his left leg for his father to see. There were at least half a dozen old mosquito bites. “I got all of these in our back yard. I get bit up every time I take Jumper out to pee. They’re really bad by our house.”
“Yeah. They like that lake. I have to tell Ned about this.”
“Who is Ned?”
Jackson retrieved his cell phone and used the speed dial to call Ned. “He’s the department head at the university,” Jackson said to Jax as he pushed the speaker button on the phone and placed it on the dash.
“Hello?” Ned asked over the speaker, sounding surprised.
“Hey, Ned,” Jackson said as he leaned his mouth towards the phone and itched the mosquito bite feverishly again. “You’re never going to believe what I have.”
Chapter 19
“Hey,” Gus said to his partner, Will, who sat in the passenger seat of the black windowless van. He reached over, slapped Will’s chest and pointed. “Look.”
They were parked along the curb in front of the scorched remnants of the Rally home with the engine off. The house was reduced to a pile of charred wood and exposed pipes still wet from the fire department’s hoses.
The van’s engine was still warm.
Both men were still wearing their white lab coats. They were there to monitor the neighborhood and secure any new residents that showed signs of the illness while they waited for other orders. The cage in the back of the van was empty.
For now.
“What?” Will asked, looking around, confused.
“Over there. It’s that reporter,” Gus replied as he pointed through the driver’s side window towards the news van parked across the street.
They watched Jewell, who was walking towards them with determination. Her camera guy was in the station’s van eating a sub.
“Shit.” Will reached inside his lab coat and pulled out a handgun.
“What are you doing?” Gus asked as he blocked Will’s hand from moving out of his suit.
“Taking care of her.”
“Put it away. You know the deal.”
“Cavanagh said eliminate her if she becomes a problem,” Will said as Jewell came closer. He couldn’t help but think about what she looked like naked. “Looks like a problem to me.”
“Maybe, but not here with the whole neighborhood watching.”
One neighbor was washing his car while another was mowing the grass. Kids were playing in the street.
“Let’s see what she wants first. No need to cause a scene unless it is absolutely necessary.”
“Fine.”
Will hesitantly placed the weapon back in its holster as Gus moved his hand away and then rolled the driver’s side window down to greet Jewell.
“Hi there,” Jewell said with a smile to Gus, who frowned.
“Hello. What can we do for you, ma’am?”
“Jewell Hill with Action 12 news. I mean CNN.”
“I know who you are.”
The way Gus said it gave her the creeps, but she continued. “I’m covering a story involving the man that lived in this house, before it was burned to the ground sometime last night.”
They all looked at it in unison and she continued without taking a breath. “Reverend Kenneth Rally. Who might you fellas be?”
“We are with the Centers for Disease Control.”
“Oh? How so?”
“Investigators.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Conducting a medical investigation, ma’am. Official business of the federal government.”
“A medical investigation on whom? Is someone sick here? Surely not in there,” Jewell said sarcastically as she pointed to the Rally home.
“What do you want, ma’am?”
“Do you happen to know who burned this house down, or why?”
“No, ma’am.”
“About an hour ago, that guy over there.” Jewell pointed to the man who was washing his car. “Told me a dark, unmarked van,” she said as she tapped her open palm against the exterior of the van a few times, “like this one, showed up here late yesterday and left a few minutes before the house burst into flames.”
No comment from the guys, she continued.
“Do you know anything about that?”
“No idea. If you’ll excuse us, we need to go on to the property now.”
“For what? There isn’t anything left.”
“We need to collect samples.”
“Samples of what?”
“That’s official CDC business, ma’am. We do appreciate your concern. Pardon me,” Gus said as he pushed the door open carefully, effectively moving the uncooperative Jewell out of the way.
“If you’ll excuse us, we have work to do,” he continued as he walked past her and to the back of the van. His partner hopped out on the other side and met Gus at the back.
Jewell walked to the area about ten feet behind them and watched as they pulled a large roll of caution tape out of a box. They saw the camera guy coming towards them and grabbed biohazard gear too. They stepped into the orange suits and meticulously put the other pieces on as Jewell carefully watched the technical process. It seemed like a lot of work for them in a place where everyone was walking around in the least amount of clothes possible. The guy washing his car was wearing a speedo, to everyone’s dismay.
Once they were dressed, they grabbed a metal box by the handle and some rebar posts from the back of the van. They shut the back door and nodded to Jewell as they
walked towards the front yard of the house looking as though they were ready for the world to end.
“Why is there a cage in a CDC van? What are you going to do with all that?” she yelled out to them as they walked away. “Why are you wearing those hazmat suits?”
The two men stopped in the yard close to the curb. They laid down everything they carried and Gus opened the metal case. Inside was an array of handguns, sound and smoke grenades, a couple explosive grenades and a bag filled with the brown colored incendiary material known as Thermite. There was also some medical supplies. Gus nodded to Will who nodded back as Gus closed the lid after pulling out the only thing they planned to use now.
A hammer.
“Why does the CDC need to seal off the property?” Jewell yelled out to them after moving closer to the yard, but they ignored her as they proceeded to pound the rebar posts into the scorched grass all around what used to be the Rally house.
Her camera operator walked up to her and together they watched the men stretch the caution tape around the property.
“Film this,” Jewell said to the camera operator who raised the camera and began recording.
Will shoved a sign in the grass near the curb, a few feet away from where Jewell was standing.
Caution: Keep Away
By Order Of
The Centers For Disease Control
Gus stuck a sticker that read and looked the same way on the plastic that covered the space for the front door, which had gone up in flames.
With the rouse complete, the two men grabbed the metal box and hurried back to the van. They stripped off all of their gear, tossing everything in a bag in the rear of the van before quickly moving to the front cabin. They drove away with the CNN camera recording everything.
“That was odd,” Jewell said to the camera operator as the van turned the corner and pulled out of sight with its tires squealing.
“Yeah, super weird. What do you think is going on?”
“I wish I knew. I’m going to find out though. Let’s go back to the truck and call the CDC.”
“You’re a beast. No wonder they wanted you so bad. You have a boyfriend?”
Ignoring his question, Jewell walked back with him to the CNN van where she planned to spend the next couple of hours on the phone chasing answers that she was never going to get. At least, not that way.
And We All Fall (Book 1) Page 16