Medora Wars

by Wick Welker

  “What hapins?” he quietly said in broken English, at the two white people standing in front of him.

  “Tiene bates de béisbol?” Elise asked.

  The kid’s face changed to surprise as he heard her respond in Spanish. “Sí, sí pasen, pasen.” He opened the door widely as they scrambled in.

  Elise ran to a row of clothing on the wall while Sheffield laid the baby on a table full of sweatshirts. He ran to a rack of footwear and switched his dress shoes with running shoes.

  Elise wiggled out of her skirt, and into a pair of bright red track pants, while the teenager looked away in embarrassment.

  “What is hapin?” the kid said again, unwilling to believe that Elise would understand his Spanish.

  “Hay gente muy peligrosa que viene pronto. Estan infectadas,” she responded, now sitting, and putting her feet into a pair of tennis shoes.

  “Ah,” he said, moving away from her, and toward the cash register at the back of the store. “I stay.”

  “What’s he saying?” Sheffield asked, moving over to the sporting equipment, and picking out two aluminum bats from a rack.

  “He wants to stay here. He can do whatever the hell he wants. Hey, what’re you doing?” she asked, motioning to the bats.

  “You said we needed blunt objects.”

  “Those aluminum bats will dent up after only one good crack on a skull. You’ve got to go with those maple wood ones.” She knocked on one of the wooden bats. “These are our best friends right now.” She lifted one up and swung it sideways, feeling its weight.

  Sheffield watched her walk back to the front of the store, amazed at her transformation from a United States ambassador to an expert in skull crushing. He ran to where he had left the baby, momentarily forgetting that he had even left it on the table, and picked it up with one hand while holding a bat in the other. They left the teenager behind fumbling through his keys to lock the door behind them. “We shouldn’t help him?” Sheffield asked.

  “Helping people who don’t want to be helped is the kind of mistake that I’m talking about. I’m not going to argue with him to come.” She looked over as a few of the infected burst from the opening of the escalator and fell to the floor, crawling in every direction. “Which way can get to the roof?”

  “Any way that is away from them.” He turned the opposite direction and brought the baby out, motioning for Elise to take it.

  Hesitantly, she grabbed the baby, resting its head over her shoulder while holding the bat in her other hand.

  They sprinted together down the clear hall in front of them, passing by clothing stores and massage chairs.

  Sheffield saw a hallway to the right and found a door marked “Sólo Empleados.” They entered a dark hallway of gray cinderblock walls that led deeper into the building. The only sound was the drawn out echoes of a crying baby as they moved.

  Without hesitation, they ran until they came to a door marked with a little sign depicting stairs, which they followed until finding the stairs leading up. “Was an outbreak of the Virulex virus on your radar at all? Have you been briefed about a possible threat in Mexico City or anywhere for that matter?” Elise asked as she ran up, skipping steps.

  “No. This is a total surprise attack,” he said, grunting with each step.

  “By who?”

  “Well, those men looked… I don’t know. Latino?”

  “Yeah, they did, but not Mexican. They were South Americans, maybe from Argentina or Venezuela. Did they seem like any known terrorists groups that you know in this region?”

  “No, no. I’m thinking they’re from a drug cartel using terrorist tactics in retaliation against the government.”

  “Retaliation for what?”

  “I don’t know, they’re always pissed off about some crackdown.”

  “How in the hell would a drug cartel get its hands on the Virulex nanovirus?”

  “I’ve no clue.”

  They continued in silence as even now the baby had quieted down. Elise looked down at its dark, furrowed hair and felt a pang of guilt flash through her. They were on the fourth floor stairwell and made their way up one more flight of stairs until they came to a single sign that read “Techo.”

  “This is it,” Elise said from behind Sheffield, who was reaching for the door handle.

  He tried the handle and found it unlocked. “Can’t believe it opened,” he scoffed, thinking about the lax security in the building.

  A harsh wind blew into the door as it opened outward into the bright sun. The white, gravel top of the roof expanded in front of them for hundreds of feet, as it covered the expansive area of the entire mall. I can’t believe I’m doing this again, Elise thought, repositioning the baby to her other shoulder.

  “Are you getting any word from anyone?” Elise asked.

  Sheffield pressed down on his earpiece. “No, it’s silent.”

  Thumping helicopters filled the air above them as constant gunfire echoed up from the streets. Elise walked out to the edge of the building so that only the top of her head would be seen from below. The entire façade of a building across the street had erupted in flames, with each window bursting with fire. Several people on the roof of the building waved their arms at Elise, shouting, and crying for help. The traffic below had completely stopped with one car turned on its side from an apparent crash, crushing a screaming person underneath. The street and sidewalk streamed with people running in panic, turning their backs to fight off the infected. It was a scene with which she had become too familiar. She wanted to feel shock and panic but only sighed within as the world’s fears about another outbreak happening had so quickly been confirmed right in front of her.

  “I’m going to find something to stop them from getting up here,” Sheffield said, walking around, and looking behind a fenced-off piping system.

  “Oh, I think they’ll find a way up here no matter what we do,” she said, pointing straight up to the sky.

  “What?” he asked, looking up. He saw two large cargo airplanes that flew parallel to each other across the sky. They were flying much lower than Sheffield had ever seen planes of that size fly, and they seemed to be in an arced path around the city, attempting to circle back. A steady stream of bodies fell from the back end of each plane, tumbling in a freefall to the buildings of the city below.

  Chapter Five: Dallas, Texas

  Dave Tripps was lying in bed with laughter blaring from the TV in intervals in between the conversations of two characters. It was a man and a woman discussing something about kissing, that was starting to bore into Dave’s head, making it pound with each heartbeat. He hated the contrived romance but hated himself more for letting it make him feel lonely. His hangover had been exquisite, made even worse by additional muscle pain all over his body from a training exercise yesterday morning. He knew he would regret going drinking with the rest of the squad the night before, and was now paying dearly as he leaned over in bed, looking down at the aluminum bowl on the floor that had collected a significant amount of vomit.

  For the past half hour he wanted to get out of bed to open the blinds and let the morning sunlight into the room, but his body was resisting. The dim glow from the TV screen had given the room, as well as his mood, a sickening artificial feeling that was clinging at his thoughts. His mind was also lingering on the coffeemaker in his kitchen. He wondered the time of day and realized that he probably had not slept past 4 a.m. in the past six months. There was no sleeping-in during training, not on the weekends, not ever. He had grown to enjoy the early morning sunlight and the small sense of accomplishment he felt running around a track in early morning hours.

  “It’s shit like this that gives a person stability. You know?” Michaels said to him once as they ran, panting deeply while looking forward.

  “What?” Dave asked.

  “You know,” she said, “getting out of bed to do something—to do anything, whatever it is. You’ve got to be doing something all the time or you go crazy. Believe me, I k
now, because my shit went crazy once,” she said, sprinting past him.

  Dave rolled over onto his right side and wanted to go running, but at the same time, also wanted to throw up. He continued to lie still until the wave of nausea passed, and he was finally able to sit up on the side of the bed. Why did I drink so much? he thought, not quite remembering how he got home. He remembered Michaels’ long hair as she sat next to him on the cracked vinyl of the barstool. The first time seeing her in civilian clothes had sent his mind reeling. Oh yeah, he thought, that’s why I drank so much. Looking down at his palms, he saw small slits of sunlight passing through the blinds resting across his hands. The red light from the digital clock read 11:47 a.m. He stood, went to the window, and drew the blinds open.

  Looking out across the front lawn, he saw a large crowd congregated around the house across the street, with people walking into the garage, and around the side of the house.

  “What the hell?” he said to the empty room, squinting his eyes. As people moved into the front door of the home, he saw several bunches of balloons tied to the mailbox, and realized that they were having an open house.

  Yawning, he turned to toward the TV to turn it off, and then stopped when he heard a familiar commercial jingle come on that brought with it a flood of memories. He remembered distinctly arguing with his old boss, Janice, about some color scheme that could go along with the lettering of the granola bars. There was a ridiculous meeting with the owners about how the natural color of granola didn’t have synergy with the color scheme that Dave had designed. He remembered being furious at having to hear the word ‘synergy’ so many times in one meeting. And now the song from the TV, along with shooting granola bars across the screen, completely amazed him at everything that had happened since he worked in marketing two years ago. He thought about the last time he saw Janice on top of the roof, with both her arms missing. Sitting back on the bed, he picked up his cell phone and dialed, waiting for the line to pick up.

  “Hey, hey! I haven’t heard from this guy in forever.” The voice on the other line had picked up quickly.

  “Hey man. Yeah, I’m sorry, I really haven’t been able to call anyone in a long time,” Dave said.

  “Yeah, it’s been like, forever…” Keith said plainly.

  “I know, I know. Hey, guess what I just saw on TV?”

  “What?”

  “A commercial for Fair Valley granola bars.” Dave laughed.

  Keith laughed, as his tone changed. “No way I remember that campaign. I hated working with those people. The fakest bunch of assholes ever.”

  “I know, made me think of Janice, too.”

  “Yeah, I know. I think about her every now and then. It’s not like I really miss the woman or anything.”

  “Right, she was just… the most memorable.”

  “Exactly. I can remember everything about that tiny room she was in. I thought she was just off medications for a while or something.”

  “Hey, how’re Ellen and Jayne?” Dave asked.

  “They’re good. Nothing much is new. Ellen still goes into some research place every couple of weeks for testing—they never let up with her. Keep trying to see if there’s anything special with her. I keep telling her that there’s not.”

  “That’s annoying.”

  “No, it’s really okay. She’s not gone for too long, and they pay us so, I’m not complaining.”

  “And how is little Jayne?”

  “She’s… she’s okay, I guess. The school we have her in now is just really weird. They have all these protocols and drills in case of an outbreak—like, almost every day. Oh, and just last week, they put up these really tall chain-link fences with barbed wire all around the school.”

  “What? Why?”

  “They say it’s to protect the kids, but I think it’s just a back plan for if an outbreak happens at a school. They’re already nice and contained if we suddenly get a bunch of infected kids.”

  “Holy shit, really?”

  “Yeah, they’re doing it all over the state. No one seems to be complaining too much about it.”

  “Did you hear about what happened in D.C.?”

  “Yeah of course, some sort of foreign predator drones in the area? Has your special little team told you anything about it?” Keith laughed.

  “We have a name. We’re SIO.”

  “What?”

  “We’re called SIO.”

  “What is that?”

  “Special Infectious Operations.”

  “Oh, right. How’s all that going?”

  “It’s pretty good. I just got off a six month blackout training where I couldn’t communicate with anyone. That’s why you haven’t heard from me. It was some really intense stuff.”

  “Like what?”

  “I just finished a parachuting exercise. It did not go well.”

  “Oh, really? What do they even have you doing?”

  “I can’t really say anything, but all you need to know is that if there’s ever another outbreak in the U.S., we will be kicking some serious ass with the stuff that’s been developed.”

  “I still can’t believe you went into the Army.”

  “It’s not really the Army.”

  “All right, well whatever it is, I never in a million years would’ve guessed you’d be doing whatever it is you’re doing out there.”

  “I know, but I am liking it.”

  “You meeting any people? Like, any new lady friends or anything?”

  “Uh… not really.”

  “Good, I hope you’re still finding time to get drunk every now and then.”

  Dave snorted. “As a matter of fact, I’m pretty hung over at the moment.”

  “There you go.”

  “Yeah, feeling like shit.”

  “Makes sense.” Keith paused. “Hey, do you want to talk to Ellen?” his voice died away as he yelled for Ellen to come to the phone.

  “Uh, yeah.” Another phone on his nightstand rang. “Oh wait, hang on.” Dave put his cell phone down and picked up the other phone. “This is Tripps.”

  “Tripps, it’s Douglas,” he said quickly. “Get your ass to Carswell Air Force Base as soon as possible.” His voice sounded rushed.

  Dave momentarily thought about the one-week vacation that was ahead of him. “What’s this about, sir?”

  “We’re going to Mexico City.”

  “What?” Dave asked in disbelief.

  “We’re flying out at fifteen hundred today. You will be briefed once you arrive.”

  “Yes, sir,” he responded as his mind screamed with exhaustion.

  “Get over here, now.” The phone hung up.

  Dave got up from the bed with his head spinning and quickly went to the closet, retrieving a large, green duffle bag, which he crammed with socks and underwear. He wanted to be angry about not having vacation time but was suddenly far too intrigued at why his unit was being sent to Mexico. Better not be another surprise training exercise, he thought.

  After packing his bag, he went to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and swallowed several tabs of aspirin. Opening his fridge, he saw empty shelves along with a bottle of ketchup, and realized he wouldn’t be eating for a while. Going back to the closet, he rummaged around in a drawer and found a set of dog tags, which he put around his neck. One of them read “Boomtown.”

  Throwing his bag on the bed, he realized that he had forgotten about his phone call with Keith. “Hello?” he said into the phone without a response. “Shit”. Putting his phone in his bag, he circled around once more in his room, and walked out.

  *****

  As he ran up to the building, he saw Michaels walking up the other side of the parking lot, with her slender frame moving swiftly. She waved over at Dave as he waited for her at the door.

  “Hey, didn’t think we’d be seeing each other so soon, did you?” Michaels said in a taunting tone.

  “Yeah, I finally got your whinny ass out of my head when Douglas called me.” Dave said as
they walked through the doors and down a hallway. “Do you know much of what’s going on?”

  “No, not really, but have you been listening to the news?”

  “Yeah, I heard about that weird drone in D.C.”

  “No, no not that. It’s looking like there’s an outbreak going on in Mexico City.”

  “A real outbreak?” Dave asked, eyes wide.

  “Yeah. It’s just coming in over the news right now, but it sounds like it’s the real thing.”

  “What’re they saying?”

  “There are attacks around the inner city by organized gunmen. They’re dumping infected people all over the city.”

  “Holy shit. Like a bioterror attack? Who’s doing it?”

  “They don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out a little more. They don’t just call us in after a six month blackout for surprise training.”

  At the end of the dim hallway, they turned right into a large warehouse hanger, with several small planes parked at the gate. A small group in Army fatigues had gathered around some folding chairs and an overhead projector.

  “Shit, the entire unit is already here,” Dave said. “Why isn’t everyone else as hung over as I am?”

  “It’s because you drink like a bitch, didn’t you know that?” Michaels pushed Dave and walked past him, yelling at the group, “Old Man Tripps is the last one here, guys!” Throwing up her hands, she started booing as the rest of the unit turned toward Dave, and joined in with the heckling.

  “Everyone just shut up!” Captain Douglas yelled out from where he stood, next to the projected screen. “Michaels and Tripps, sit your asses down, and everyone just shut the hell up. We’re going to do this briefing in about eight minutes, and then we’re getting on the plane.”