Fen walked in with four of her agents.
“Agent Shu, what can I do for you?” he asked.
She tried to stifle a smile, but it was hard to do. She looked smug. “General Liu, you are relieved of duty.”
“What?” he asked shocked.
“You were warned. You are charged with insubordination, sympathizing with the enemy, and treason. A field court martial has been issued. Evidence has been presented to our government leaders and you were found guilty of these crimes and you have been sentenced to death, at dawn, by a firing squad of your peers.” She looked at the agents to the left and her right. “Arrest and detain him.”
Sergeant Hung took a step toward Liu as they grabbed him.
“Sergeant,” she called out. “You are his assistant. Do we need to investigate you as well?”
Sergeant Huang stepped back.
“Thank you. Gentleman, I will have a replacement tomorrow.” She made eye contact with General Liu as he walked by her, then she followed, wishing the men in the room a good day, as she pulled the doors closed behind her.
The Kremlin, Russia
He had given all that he had left of him. His time, his concentration, his heart, but Petrov couldn’t sit on it any longer.
The time was at hand. It was time to make a decision and it was one he didn’t take lightly.
Prime Minister Winslet bailed on him. She was onboard until the last minute when she stated her constituents didn’t want to get involved and that she had citizens abroad that she wanted to bring home. When she did that, she opened up her harbor to receive goods from the United States. Not that it was enough to stop the chaos over food, but in Petrov’s mind it was enough to keep England under China’s control.
Winslet believed staying neutral and working with China was for the best. Or so she said.
It was what was best for the United States.
Petrov strongly disagreed.
China had finally admitted to the invasion and declared a strong victory.
There were still strong United States Military hubs out there. They had already successfully succeeded in disruption diversions, liberation of camps and releasing numerous small towns from the China stronghold.
It wasn’t much, but it was more than anyone expected.
Petrov had been in touch constantly with the head of their resistance operation. Now the general needed him again, this time bigger, this time to make a difference.
Until he heard otherwise, until he heard of an unconditional surrender, he was going to believe that the takeover was still hostile, and the United States was in need and wanted assistance as General Welch stated.
The problem was, no one but Canada wanted to assist. Even they were limited in what they could do.
His generals advised against it.
“Do you know what this entails?” his head general asked.
“I do.”
“Do you realize, the wrong move isn’t going to help America? It can and possibly will destroy the world.”
“This is going to destroy the world either way,” Petrov said. “The question is do we sit idly by and wait or do something about it? Anything that can stop it. Even if we fail, we failed trying, not burying our heads. This is what they want of us.”
“We know this from rebels. We don’t know this from the country. I don’t get it,” said the general. “If the terms are the same, if everyone else is negotiating, why are we being the black sheep?”
“If they can do this to the United States, what is next? Who is next?”
The general strained a smile on his face. “Sir, China is not trying for world domination.”
“You don’t think? They have the food, half the weapons in the world. If everyone accepts this, they are dominating.” Petrov walked to his desk. “Take a look at the last intelligence from Canada.”
The general joined him and reviewed the items on the desk. One of which was a large map of the United States.
“There are pockets of resistance according to Welch.” He pointed to the map. “And these locations according to our Canadian friends are other locations that are rogue and fighting.”
“Where are the enemy soldiers?”
Petrov smiled. “They are not spread out like wildfire, they are concentrated.”
“Which makes it easier for us,” the general said.
“I sent a memo to you with the detailed idea of what I think we should do in regard to the American general’s request. How we should proceed.”
“I received it and I responded that it was high risk.”
“If it works, then it is worth it.”
“If it doesn’t, will you still say the same?”
“I must believe I would,” Petrov said.
“Alright then,” the general exhaled. “When do we move?”
“Now. Evacuate the major cities. Move people into the shelters, prepare for the worst,” Petrov said. “Once they are secure … we begin. We end this, one way or another. You know what to do. Let us do it.”
Chapter Nineteen
Twenty-One Days Post Bombs
Swall, CA – San Joaquin Valley
There had to be rules of the road, curfews, but Joe wasn’t sure about what they were. There was martial law in his area, no travelling on the roads after ten or before sun up. He assumed it was that way everywhere. He had his delivery order for eight cases of Fat Joe tomatoes, that was all. He was pretty certain that if there was anything else he needed aside from the travel form and order, Mary Lou would have gotten it to him.
She made sure, in so many words, to tell him to leave on Sunday. Which made sense, if Joe drove straight through for twenty-four hours, without stopping to rest, he’d be at least a thousand miles away.
Just on the outside chance that they were searching for him and his travel papers were void, Joe prepared for that. Using what fuel he had remaining on his farm, he filled as many five-gallon square containers as he could. He placed them side down on the bed of the truck and covered them with the crates. He secured those with bungee and then placed his packed back and supplies in the back seat of his truck. He brought water, food, blankets, and everything he could think of to survive in the mountains, should he and Toby need to hide out east. The final piece to go was his gun. He tucked it away under the backseat, praying as he did so, that it would never be found should his truck get searched. By the time he was finished, the sun still hadn’t risen. With a couple hours to go, Joe sat in his reclining chair and closed his eyes.
He fell into a deep sleep, woken by the sound of the ringing phone. It stopped by the time he had jumped up to get it. There was no caller ID so there was no way to know who called. One step away from the phone, Joe jumped from his skin when it rang again. Quickly, he answered.
“Hello.”
Breathing. Rushed, shaky sounding breathing.
“Hello?”
“They’re gone,” Mary Lou whispered. She wasn’t crying, but her voice quivered. “They’re all gone, Joe. Dead.”
“Who? Who is dead?”
“Everyone.”
“Mary Lou, what’s going on?”
“God speed, Joe,” she said.
“Mary Lou.”
Click.
She hung up and Joe put down the phone, grabbed his jacket and his keys, pulled the door closed to his house and hurried to his truck.
It was daylight. Joe needed to be on the road headed east, but for all that Mary Lou had done for him, he had to go into town to check on her. It was the least he could do.
Caldwell, OH
Something was different. Toby had fallen asleep the night before finally feeling better and stronger. He only lost his balance now when he stood, instead of all the time. The guy, Cal, had slipped him two of those military MRE packs of peanut butter and Toby devoured them. He even had no problem taking a handful of water from the trough. He just had to put it out of his mind how many people’s dirty hands reached in there. Including his own.
It
was weird when Cal slipped the packages to him, he wanted to hug him, thank him, but he couldn’t because he didn’t want to get the dude in trouble. It gave Toby hope that all was not lost.
The protein, the peanut butter was what his body needed. For soul, mind, and body. It powered him up enough that when he woke up he was ready to work on that hole by the fence. The area by the body barricade, not even the soldiers went near there. A section a little over two feet long where there was a separation between the fence and ground. Every couple of hours, Toby would walk by, stare out and use his foot to push the dirt, then the next round, he would bend down, grab a handful of dirt and move on.
Eventually that hole in the ground under the fence would be big enough for him to slip through. Maybe not Harris, but Harris said that was fine. If Toby got out he could try to find help … if there was any to be found.
His mouth was dry when he woke up, which was typical because he was still breathing only through is mouth and Harris wasn’t nearby.
He grumbled out his daily, “Hey,” and when Harris didn’t answer, Toby grew concerned.
Stumbling to stand, Toby held onto the wall until he had his balance. He wanted to make his way to the one water barrel and grab a drink.
When he got there, the barrel was on its side and the entire area around it wet.
Someone had knocked it over. He bent down to touch it and his senses kicked in. He hadn’t noticed it when he opened his eyes because it was always noisy, but on this morning, he heard the sound of trucks, lots of them, in the distance.
Within seconds he heard shouting, voices all meshed together, and he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He looked up and that was when he saw what seemed like every single person in the camp standing at the fences.
Their arms were flailing, voices shouting.
The entire prison yard was empty, they were all there.
He spotted Harris standing in the back. He was hard to miss, he was so tall, and Toby made his way to him.
“Dude,” Toby said.
Harris did a double take as if surprised to see Toby. “Hey.”
“Why am I sleeping through everything?”
Harris shook his head. “I just walked over here myself.”
“The barrel is knocked over,” Toby said.
“Yeah, there’s no water.”
“At all?”
“At all. The soldiers came in and emptied it.”
“Is that why people are shouting?” Toby asked.
“No. They’re shouting because it looks like their pulling out,” Harris said. “Something is happening, we just don’t know what and we’re trapped in here.”
Immediately, Toby turned.
“Where are you going?” Harris asked.
“We aren’t trapped. My hole man, the one I have been working on. I can finish it.” Toby made his way toward the hole.
“Toby. Wait,” Harris called.
Toby didn’t. He was excited. If the soldiers pulled out he could work on that hole without anyone stopped him. But as soon as he got there, he dropped down to the ground in defeat.
“I tried to stop you,” Harris said out of breath. “They did this last night.”
Toby shook his head. Not only was his small hole filled in, but a trench of concrete and rocks had been placed in the vulnerable area. Toby touched it, it was still damp, but it served its purpose.
The idea of escaping under the fence was snuffed.
Like Harris had said, they really were trapped.
Chapter Twenty
Swall, CA – San Joaquin Valley
Just before the Sundrive Gas and Go was the check point that Joe went through daily. While he was certain the soldiers there knew him, it was Sunday and a day Joe didn’t go into town. He pulled out his identification and planned to be honest when they asked why he wasn’t dressed properly.
A friend was in need.
He could have gotten to Farmersville High school faster and easier, but all the side roads and most access roads were blocked.
With the roadblock in his sight, Joe slowed down the truck.
As he pulled closer he wondered, where were the soldiers? The blockade gate was across the road, but the post where the four soldiers usually stood was empty.
Joe leaned toward the steering wheel, peering close to the windshield as he drove slowly toward the gate. He was so focused on looking for the guards, he never saw what caused the thump and jolt of his truck.
He ran over something.
Joe stopped the truck, opened the door, and stepped out. When he did his foot landed right on the body of a soldier.
Quickly, Joe jumped out of the way. He had run over a soldier; how did he do that? Unless he was already on the road.
Walking backwards, Joe moved away from the truck and he heard the buzzing of flies. As if in slow motion, he turned around. The guard soldiers were there, only they, like the one under his truck, were on the ground.
He stepped closer to take a look. He didn’t need to be a doctor to know they were dead and that they hadn’t been shot or stabbed. All of their faces were a pale shade of blue. Their lips and noses were purple, and a pinkish foam seeped from their nostrils and mouths.
Horrified of what he saw and frightened that somehow he would be blamed, Joe opened the gate and got in his truck and drove to town. He decided he was going to make a beeline to headquarters to report it.
Problem was, it was more of the same when he arrived in town.
Military vehicles had crashed, soldiers lay dead in the street and by the cars. Joe slowed down enough to look, now understanding what Mary Lou had meant by, “They’re all dead.”
Frightened for her, knowing she was scared, Joe made the left on Florence Avenue and picked up speed to the high school.
He stopped at the check point, but when he stepped from the truck, he knew he was able to drive right through.
The bussing sound of flies was loud, adding a backdrop hum that broke the eerie silence.
It wasn’t more of the same. There were four dead Chinese soldiers, but unlike the others, they were surrounded by a pool of blood.
They had been shot.
Joe drove through and went as far as he could. The yard area was filled with tents and cots, blocking the driveway and Joe had to walk.
More dead soldiers and not a whimper, cough, or moan from those ill on the cots or tents.
Everybody?
At that moment, Joe stopped walking and he ran. He ran as fast as he could to the gymnasium building.
The doors were open and as he raced in, he nearly tripped over the body of another soldier. He was different. He wasn’t riddled with bullets or sickness, he had been butchered. Stabbed so many times, his neck was nearly decapitated. When he looked away from the body, that was when he saw Mary Lou. She stood center of the gym, amongst all of the bodies on cots.
Every single body was covered.
Mary Lou raised a gun to her head.
“Stop!” Joe yelled out. “Stop.”
Slowly she turned around. She was covered with blood. “Joe,” she whimpered. “You’re supposed to be gone.”
“What are you doing?” Joe walked to her. “What happened here?”
Her lips quivered. “Our work is done. The others, they left, I just … I don’t know if I can live with what happened.”
“What happened?” Joe grabbed her shoulders.
“They killed them, Joe.” She looked around. “They killed all the sick. We were told not to come in for our shift yesterday. Then Sergeant Edmunds found me. They gassed them. They gassed every sick camp from here to San Jose. It happened last night.”
“Jesus.”
“I covered them. That was the least I could do.”
“What happened with the soldiers?”
“It wasn’t part of the plan, you know.”
“What? The dead soldiers.”
“No, the dead neighbors. Our friends, the sick, they weren’t supposed to be killed. We
didn’t cause this. It was ordered from the top. Our plan was already in motion. It worked, too. We came in and took those who didn’t die from it, we picked them off. Shot them …” She turned her head and looked elsewhere. “Stabbed them. All of the soldiers. All of them dead.”
“Mary Lou, that’s thousands.”
“We only had to pick off a dozen or so. They were easy. They were panicking. Running, Screaming.” She spoke dazed.
Joe gave her a jolt. “What happened to the other soldiers? How did you kill that many?”
Still, Mary Lou looked elsewhere, staring around. “Poison. Ricin. Saturday afternoon they were fed it, they were dead before sun up.”
“How did you poison so many?”
Slowly, Mary Lou went from looking away to looking at Joe. Her eyes connected. “Saturday, they served the tomatoes to everyone.”
Joe’s hands fell from her. “My tomatoes.”
Mary Lou didn’t answer.
“How many of my tomatoes are poisoned?”
“They were never going to our people, only to the soldiers and their leaders.”
“How many?” Joe asked.
“The workers have been poisoning them since day one.”
“Oh my God.” Joe stepped back.
“You need to go, Joe.”
“What are you going to do?”
Mary Lou smiled. “I’m gonna go be with Greg.”
“No, come with me.”
“I can’t. I don’t have the travel permit and someone here has to look like the guilty party. I’m fine with that. But go. Go before news gets out that this happened.”
He knew she had a point and with daylight in full force, Joe had to go. He nodded, gave her a look of gratitude, stepped back and then hurried out. He was barely through the gym doors and outside when he heard the lone gunshot.
He paused for a second, closed his eyes, then continued on.
Joe didn’t look back as he pulled from the school, drove through town or through the road block. He’d figure out later what to do with those tomatoes in the back of his truck, obviously, they were tainted. The highway was empty, he didn’t see a single car or military vehicle. He supposed eventually he would.
Burning Skies (Book 2): Fallout Page 15