Brent Acuff - Undead Nation 03

by Revenge

  “Come on,” Liam urged. “Move to the back. Everyone to the back.” The new recruits pushed their cache of survivors towards the back of the receiving area, farthest away from the entrance they had come through. Just as the last man past through the gates, the heavy steel clanged shut, locking them inside and the danger out.

  Liam doubled over, breathing heavily from the exertion. He looked towards the survivors that they had brought in and watched as many of them broke down in tears; tears of joy, exhaustion, and relief. Tears that everyone present had experienced and dealt with before, but that these people only now had the chance to feel. Liam smiled.

  “Private Jackson,” Alex barked. Liam looked over at his friend and saw the anger on his face. “Private Jackson, here now!” he ordered. Liam stood up and paid close attention to the scene unfolding in front of him. Jackson had been the recruit to disobey orders and wound up releasing that horde of deaders that had caused them to run for their lives. Alex would be furious, and Liam wanted to make sure Alex didn’t go too far.

  Jackson looked to the other recruits before lowering his head and moving towards Alex. He stopped in front of the lieutenant, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground at his feet. “Private Jackson,” Alex barked, “you disobeyed a direct order and put this platoon and the people in their charge in danger.” Alex paused for a moment letting the charges sink in. “Why?” he asked quietly.

  The softness of the request seemed to take everyone by surprise. Private Jackson’s eyes shot up to meet Alex’s.

  “I, I don’t…” he stammered. “I don’t know, sir. I…”

  “You don’t realize that this is serious,” Alex finished. “You just think that this is a game. That you are invincible because you have a gun.” Alex’s voice became more scolding as he continued. “You are young, overly confident, and a dumb ass. Three of the most dangerous things that someone can have out here. You are going to get someone killed.” Alex looked at Liam, then to the survivors they had a brought in. “You may have already killed someone.”

  The young recruit’s face turned white and he followed Alex’s gaze from Liam to the knot of survivors. “I…I didn’t…”

  “You did,” Alex interrupted, “and you will see your actions through to the consequences.” Everyone’s eyes were focused on the scene before them. The recruits were unaware of what Alex meant. The veterans knew. They had seen this scene played out a few times before.

  “Private Jackson, you will accompany these people,” and Alex indicated the cache of survivors, “through inspection and quarantine. You will stay with them until they are cleared…a three day process. If at any point, any of these people are diagnosed with the infection, you will be the one that puts them down.”

  Private Jackson took a step back. “I…I can’t do that,” he stammered. “I won’t.”

  “You will,” Alex ordered. “And under armed guard. This is not up for discussion. You will see the consequences of your actions, first hand. Sergeant!”

  At the request, Liam instinctively moved to stand next to his friend. “Not you, Command Sergeant,” Alex barked. Liam stopped, confused before he realized why. He was still covered with infected blood.

  “I’m sorry Command Sergeant, but you’ll be joining these fine people in quarantine.” Liam looked to the cache of survivors and nodded his agreement. He stepped back. “Sergeant Thompson,” Alex specified. Donovan stepped up to Private Jackson’s side. “Please disarm and escort this man to the quarantine area. Should he refuse to follow another order, thereby proving he will remain a threat to this platoon and any survivors they are escorting, you are ordered to eliminate that threat.”

  Donovan’s brow creased in confusion. “I’m sorry?” he asked.

  Alex moved close to the sergeant. When he spoke, his voice was low and even.

  “Sergeant Thompson, you will accompany Private Jackson as he escorts these people through quarantine. Should any of them be diagnosed with the virus, the private will be the one to dispatch the infected. Should he refuse this order, or any other order given to him, you are to shoot him.”

  Now it was Donovan who stepped back from Alex in shock. Private Jackson lost any remaining color that he may have had and stammered uncontrollably.

  “Understood?” Alex asked of both men.

  “Yes sir,” Donovan mumbled. Jackson still could not speak coherently.

  “Good. Now get him out of here.” Alex turned away from Donovan and the private who started to herd the survivors towards the examination area. “Stryker Team, meet at the quartermaster in one hour for resupply. We are going back in. Until then, you are dismissed.” Grunts of acknowledgement greeted Alex’s orders and the remainder of the team set off for a few moments rest.

  “So how many is that?” Liam asked quietly of Alex. “At least the fifth that you’ve sent through quarantine like that. I know they have all come back better soldiers, but…”

  “But there is no other choice,” Alex interrupted. “We’ve talked about this, Liam. There is no police force, there are no jails. And for every able man you put behind bars is one more available soldier gone.” Alex looked to his friend and gave a sad grin. “There is no more rehabilitation, only instant and fair consequences for your actions.”

  “Fair?” Liam asked. Alex nodded his head.

  “Fair. If he caused any of those people to become infected because he disregarded a direct order, then he should be the one to fix the situation. We can’t save the infected,”

  “I know, I know,” Liam said and looked to the gore covering his uniform. “Believe me, Alex, I know.”

  Alex smiled again, this time trying to reassure his friend. “Everything will be okay, Liam.” He pointed to the blood stained coveralls. “That’s why we take the precautions we do.” Two armed soldiers moved to flank Liam. “You’d better go get cleaned up. I’ll be by in a minute to check on you.”

  Liam nodded and started towards the examination area with the soldiers. A few paces away he stopped and turned back to Alex. “Do you think it wise to go back in there? With four men out, two of them vets?”

  Alex nodded. “We’ll be fine. Nine vets still, to seven rookies that take orders. We’ve seen worse, haven’t we?”

  Liam barked out a laugh. “Hell yes, we have,” and Liam smiled. “See you when you get back.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Quarantine

  “This is, this is ridiculous,” Private Jackson stammered as he made his way through examination. Marcus Jackson had been rescued from Amarillo Texas two months before and been recruited into the Civilian Defense Force soon after. Everyone who was able was placed in the Civilian Authority, and from there were assigned a specific duty where they would benefit the greater good. Close to two-thirds of all able bodied men and women were assigned to active fighting in the Civilian Defense Force. Many of these would never see the end of the war.

  “This is barbaric, archaic, cruel…”

  “Fair,” Donovan interrupted. “You screwed up, boy, and now it’s time to face the consequences of those actions.”

  “Yeah, but shouldn’t I be put in jail or something?”

  “And just where is this mythical jail you speak of? This is war, boy. We aren’t putting a fighter behind bars when they could be in the field. You’ll face your consequence, immediately and fairly, and then we’ll be friends again.”

  “How the hell is this fair?!” Jackson yelled. “I lost my mom and dad back in Amarillo…”

  Donovan shoved Jackson with the butt of his carbine. “Everyone,” Donovan growled, “has lost someone. Most of us have lost more than one.” Donovan’s eyes focused on some place distant. “Some don’t have much to live for anymore.” He shook his head, clearing the thoughts. “Don’t you dare expect sympathy from anyone. You lost someone. Welcome to the club.”

  Jackson huffed at Donovan’s and continued on to the examination area.

  “Stop there, please,” a harsh voice commanded. The entrance to the examination a
rea was extremely narrow, allowing only one person to squeeze through at a time. The entrance led in to a narrow corridor flanked on either side by numerous dog kennels. The setup was simple — dogs could detect the virus, even at very early stages. By sending people down this narrow corridor, you could detect infection with an almost 100% accuracy.

  “Please hand over your weapons, sir.” Jackson looked back to Donovan for confirmation, but the veteran was already unslinging his carbine and handing his weapons to the guards.

  “Do what they say, private,” Donovan said without looking. “You won’t be allowed to go through armed as you are. And if you don’t go through, then you have disobeyed another order.” Donovan looked towards the rookie. “And you understand what that means, right?”

  Jackson sighed and started to unpack his weapons. “Yeah, I know,” he grumbled.

  Once both the men were unarmed, they were each sent through the narrow corridor. Each man was met at the other end by a mass of armed and angry looking soldiers.

  “Clear,” one of the men called to the others as each man exited the corridor. Jackson once again looked back to Donovan for understanding.

  “Passed the first test, private,” Donovan said. Right behind Donovan came the soldier that had taken their gear. He offered Donovan his gear back.

  “The private doesn’t get his,” Donovan said reaching for his weapons. “Someone will be by to get them soon.” The soldier nodded and returned back down the corridor to his post.

  “Wait,” Jackson called to the soldier, but he didn’t respond.

  “Don’t bother, private. Your job is observation only. I’ll hand you a weapon when you need it.” Donovan finished strapping on his gear and reached out to turn Jackson around. Pointing ahead of him he said, “There’s your charge. You keep an eye on them.”

  The group of survivors that had just been brought in stood in a tight knot outside a white tent. “Step two, private. Physical exam. Every person brought into this area is subject to a full body physical examination. No questions, no refusals.” Donovan led the private towards the tent. “You will make sure you that everyone of those people go through and are cleared by the docs. If they don’t,” Donovan paused to let everything sink in. “Well, we will deal with that if it comes up.”

  The line of survivors were slowly being issued into the medical tent. Once inside everyone was separated and shown into individual rooms. Each room was no more than a six-by-six foot area, partitioned off with heavy canvas hanging from rods which crisscrossed the ceiling. Donovan followed Jackson inside as they kept close to their cache of survivors.

  “Take all of your clothes off, please,” came the orders from multiple rooms throughout the examination area. Most people complied, their faces turning red with embarrassment as they began to undress. Only a few refused. After multiple requests, armed guards were called in to force their compliance. No one refused at this point.

  Private Jackson remembered his time in quarantine. Though the time he spent there was long and boring, he still had no idea what really took place in the camp. Everyone who made it out of examination was placed with others who had passed. It was those diagnosed with the infection who were segregated from the general population. This was where the nightmares lived.

  Jackson’s attention was drawn to a young girl who was just now being summoned into one of the partitioned areas. Tears welled in her eyes as she sought encouragement from her mother who gently pushed her into examination room before being escorted to a separate area. Jackson’s eyes then roamed the line of strangers, stopping at each of their faces. All of them kept their eyes on the ground at their feet.

  “Doctor, we have a wound here.” The announcement caused everyone in line to whisper quiet prayers under their breath. Jackson looked where the announcement had come from, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. An older man in white scrubs and two armed guards hurried quickly to the examination area where the young girl had entered. Jackson’s breath quickened and he felt as if he was about to faint. Donovan touched his shoulder.

  For what seemed an eternity, Jackson waited for the doctors to finish their examinations of the young girl. Finally the doctors exited the area. “She’s fine. That gash is on the bottom of her foot, and it looks pretty old. I’d say it was at least five or six days old, and the blood in her shoes is probably from tearing it open again when they were escaping. We’ll separate her from the general population, but keep her with her family. If she made it past the dogs, then I seriously doubt she was infected.”

  The younger doctor nodded, accepting the diagnosis of the senior doctor before turning back to the waiting girl. “There are clean clothes in the cabinet behind you. You can get yourself dressed and we’ll get you back with your mother just as soon as she is finished.”

  Jackson pressed his hand to his heart trying to stop its maddening beat. He started to turn to face Donovan, but his world turned dark. His last vision before passing out was of Donovan lowering him to the floor.

  –—

  Jackson’s eyes fluttered and opened. Donovan sat in front of him with his attention focused on the MRE in his hands. Slowly, Jackson glanced around him, trying to gain his bearings. He could see he was in a lean-to, but could not determine where he was. The sounds of camp life drifted in to meet him, muffled and indistinct.

  “How are you feeling?” Donovan asked the private without looking up from his meal. Jackson took another look around before shaking his head and looking at the veteran.

  “What happened?” he asked, knowing the answer already.

  “You passed out. What else do you want to know?” Donovan took another bite of his steaming MRE.

  Jackson’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember what had happened before. Suddenly his eyes got wide and his breath caught in his throat. “What about…”

  “The girl is fine,” Donovan interrupted. “The girl was taken back to her mother and father. All three are together in quarantine. C block.”

  “What does the C stand for?” Jackson asked.

  Donovan looked up and smiled at the young private. “Clean.”

  “Oh,” Jackson responded, looking down at the floor he was laying on. “What about the others?”

  Donovan returned his attention to the MRE. “C block, Jackson. Every one of them.” Donovan eyed the private over his food. “You got lucky, private.”

  Jackson put his hand over his heart, willing it to slow. “You hungry?” Donovan asked. Jackson shook his head.

  “Okay,” and Donovan stood. “We’re still not done yet. You get to see the other side of it.” The veteran soldier held out his hand to help the young soldier up. “It’s time to see the nightmare you didn’t know existed.”

  Donovan led the young private past the organized chaos that was the C block of quarantine. Large open air cages containing simple cots and hygiene facilities housed a number of survivors that had been brought in from the city. Each cage housed between ten and twelve individuals, protected from the elements by canvas and tarps on three sides and the roof.

  Jackson could vaguely remember his time in quarantine. The facilities had been comparable, but it had also been the middle of winter. At times the temperature had dropped to below freezing. Without solid walls to keep out the freezing elements, Jackson thought he would never survive, let alone get warm again.

  “Wake up private,” Donovan called, snapping Jackson out of his memories. “Come on. You’ve seen all this before.”

  Donovan and Jackson kept walking far past C block, finally entering into a heavily secured area. Armed guards walked the grounds and the tops of the rows of cells. These cages were significantly smaller than those in C block, each only able to house one person. The cells were wide but shallow, allowing the occupants to sit in the middle of their cell without being able to touch either side. Jackson was baffled by the cage design.

  “This is barbaric,” Jackson muttered as he looked around the area. “These people are being treated l
ike animals.” Jackson eyed Donovan with contempt.

  “Use your head, private. This is Z block. This is where the infected come to die.” Donovan put a hand on Jackson’s shoulder and pushed him forward.

  “What people don’t realize is that the passage between the dog kennels has been shown to be nearly one hundred percent effective. For as many times as I’ve been through there, I have never seen it fail,” Donovan explained. “C block is just a precaution. This,” and Donovan indicated the cells before him, “is where the quarantine really happens.”

  Donovan led Jackson down between the long row of cells. “Each person is given their own cell, provided there is enough space. The infection has an incubation period of only three days, and after that, well,” Donovan shrugged his shoulders, “we have a new vacancy.”

  Jackson stopped walking. “What do you mean?”

  “Stop being naive, private. You and everyone else knows there is no cure for the disease, there is no treatment. The infection has a kill rate of one-hundred percent. The only problem is, once they die they get back up and try to rip your throat out.” Donovan continued on.

  “All we can do is provide some basic comfort until the infection takes over. Then, the only option is to put them down.”

  “You mean you just kill them?!” Jackson sounded outraged. Donovan turned on the young private.

  “Grow up, boy! Just what do you think we can do, huh? Release them into the wild? Adopt them out like a lost puppy?” Donovan advanced on the private causing the young man to retreat backwards. Donovan pointed at one of the infected men. “Do you want to meet him again? Out there? As he tries to kill you?”

  Jackson’s eyes were wide with fright and he was breathing hard, desperately backing away from this man who was descending on him. Donovan stopped his advance and gave the young private a moment to compose himself.