by Jon Schafer
Catching on to what was happening, Steve said, “I already know that Tick-Tock is staying. I’m going to jump out on a limb here and guess that you’re all staying with him.”
A woman named Jackie took a hesitant step forward and said, “We’re not abandoning you. We talked it over and agreed that if you still need us, we’re there for you, but…” Her voice trailed off.
“But you’re loyal to Tick-Tock and want to stay with him and Denise,” Steve finished.
They looked even more uncomfortable at this.
Steve had a feeling that this was going to happen. These were Tick-Tock’s people. Smiling to put them at ease, he said, “I understand. We might still need you, but I’m pretty sure that we won’t. More than likely, we’ll have Cindy at Fort Polk within the next day or two. You all stepped up in the end, and you should be proud of that.”
Relieved, Tick-Tock’s people visibly relaxed.
Heather asked where Denise was, and six voices spoke at once, quickly directing them to go through a door and down a hall to the open room at its end. Steve knew they were being helpful, but also that they were in a hurry to see the two of them gone. He may have relieved them of their responsibility, but he could see visible signs of guilt in their expressions.
After the door had closed behind them, Heather said softly, “It seems our little group is breaking up.”
“It had to happen sooner or later,” Steve replied. Mentally shaking off his feeling of loss, it came back in a rush as he reached the end of the hall and spotted his friend sitting next to Denise.
***
Tick-Tock saw Denise’s eyes flutter, then open wide. Smiling at her, he said, “I have to do all the hard work, and you lay around in bed all day.”
She smiled and said, “You could always join me?”
Looking around at the other patients in the open room, he said, “The excitement might hinder their healing.” Turning back to her, he asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a truck, and then it stopped and backed over me,” she told him. “I do feel a little better than yesterday, though.”
“Probably from not getting bounced around so much,” he commented. “The doctor said that you’ll start to feel better over the next couple days.”
Squinting her eyes slightly, Denise asked, “Is he a real doctor? I mean, he seemed to know what he’s doing, but his skin looks all yellow and he’s so thin.”
“He was a medical examiner in New Orleans,” Tick-Tock explained. “I’ve heard that a lot of people that work with the dead are affected by the chemicals they use on them.”
Denise quickly sat up in bed as she said in shock, “He’s a mortician?”
Tick-Tock laughed as he eased her back down and said, “He’s a pathologist, a medical doctor.”
Her head spinning from the sudden movement, Denise could only groan in reply.
“Don’t worry, babe,” Tick-Tock told her, “I won’t let him do an autopsy on you until we’re sure you’re gone.”
Sensing someone behind him, Tick-Tock turned to find Steve and Heather standing a few feet away. Heather moved to Denise’s bedside and started asking how she was while the two men stared at each other.
Finally, Steve said, “And if Tick-Tock ever dies, don’t let them do a toxicology report.”
Tick-Tock smiled and said, “They’ll find substances not known to mankind.”
After a few seconds, Tick-Tock said, “You know that I’ve got to-”
Raising his hand to cut him off, Steve said, “You don’t have to explain. I would do the same thing.” Pointing over his shoulder, he added, “I just ran into your people out in the waiting room, and they’re staying, too.”
“If you need them…” Tick-Tock started to say.
Steve shook his head and told him, “I won’t. I was talking to Rick, and he was telling me that right up until the military broke off all communication with civilians, they were asking for people that were immune to contact them. Besides, you might need them here.”
Tick-Tock nodded grimly and said, “I just might. I ran into Lieutenant Wilkes on the way over here, and he told me they were getting ready to head off that big herd that we dodged at the nut house.”
“The one he was talking about last night?” Steve asked.
Tick-Tock nodded and said, “Seems they moved west and merged with another big group before heading north on good old Highway Sixty-Nine. They’re worried that they might come back east, so they’re going to try and lure it off toward Lufkin.”
Remembering that the town was to their northwest, Steve knew this was their only hope. If the dead came back east toward them on the little two lane road that skirted the lake to its south, they would be truly screwed. Feeling slightly anxious at leaving his friend in what might be a tight spot, he reassured himself that Rick Styles and his people were competent and organized.
Turning his attention to Denise, he asked her, “How do you feel?”
Smiling, she said, “I’ll be ready to move in a couple days. Sorry to hold us up when we’re so close.”
Confused, Steve turned to Tick-Tock, who shook his head slightly at him and said, “I need a cigarette. Let’s go outside.”
Standing outside the front door, Tick-Tock said, “When I first mentioned that we were staying, Denise responded with ‘Fuck that’ and tried to get out of bed. She said that she was seeing this through, no matter what. I finally had to tell her that we were going with you to get her to calm down.”
Steve chuckled and said, “She’s going to be pissed off when she finds out you lied.”
Tick-Tock shrugged and said, “Nothing I can do about it. She’s too messed up to walk. The doctor was amazed that she made it this far.” Switching subjects, he asked, “What time are you calling the cavalry?”
Looking at his watch, Steve saw it was ten minutes to nine. His stomach did a slight roll when he realized their journey was finally reaching its end. All the names and faces of the people that didn’t make it flashed through his head in an instant as he recalled their suffering and sacrifice.
Shaking it off, he answered, “Right now,” and went inside to get Heather.
***
Noting the absence of traffic as his Humvee led the way onto Independence Avenue, General Eastridge was grateful that his operation was being launched on a Sunday morning. Only a few people on the streets stopped to gawk as they passed by, but no one made any attempt to stop them.
And why should they? Eastridge mused. It’s not like we have a hammer and sickle or a red star on the sides of our vehicles. We’re not an invading force, we’re simply United States Marines going someplace or coming from somewhere. The only reason anyone’s even paying us any attention is because most of the combat troops are on the wall, not cruising through the center of town.
To further the illusion, Eastridge radioed that everyone was to keep their weapons out of view and their helmets off. The convoy gained speed as it passed the Smithsonian, but slowed when it reached Maryland Avenue. Here, the lead vehicle veered to the left, along with most of the column, while the balance continued straight. Designated as red force, their job was to contain the assets the Chairman kept in Dog town while the main body took control of the Capitol building.
As soon as his vehicle turned onto Maryland Avenue, General Eastridge could see his objective ahead. Despite having laid eyes on it hundreds of times, seeing the Capitol building always took his breath away. He didn’t want to harm it in his bid to depose the Chairman, but he knew that if they barricaded it against him, he would order his people to breach its walls. If worse came to worst, they would raze the building, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. This wasn’t his main concern, though, his biggest worry were the five M1 Abrams tanks ringing its front. They had anti-tank weapons to take them out if need be, but they would still cause some damage before they could be dealt with.
Slowing to a stop in front of a guard post next to the road, Eastridge could see that
the four people manning it were more curious at their presence that alerted by it. This was what he had hoped for. After receiving the okay from the Chairman the night before to bring reinforcements into D.C., he made sure the news was spread among the defenders of the city. Rumors may travel faster than the truth, but he was sure that by now everyone in the city knew they were arriving today. Since his Marines protected the wall while the Army was charged with guarding the city itself, the plan was to act like they were relieving the soldiers guarding the Capitol building. It didn’t seem like that much of a stretch of the truth since the Marines had always been responsible for the security of the President. In this way, they might get around a firefight with the Army. In addition to this, since The Chairman spent all of his time here, they could secure the Capitol and take him into custody at the same time.
Stepping from the Humvee, Eastridge returned the salute from the Sergeant of the guard. Noting the man’s nametag, he said, “Good morning, Specialist Sepulveda. My name is General Eastridge, and I’m here with my men to relieve you.”
“We have no orders regarding that, sir,” Sepulveda answered.
Looking indignant, Eastridge asked, “No one told you we were coming?”
“We heard we were getting reinforcements, sir,” Sepulveda told him, “but I have no orders to quit my post. As you know, a sentry’s fifth general order is to only quit his post when properly relieved, sir.”
“And you are being properly relieved,” Eastridge told him in a tight voice. “Now gather your men and proceed to your barracks.”
Sepulveda shook his head and replied, “I have my orders, sir.”
Eastridge was about to argue that he sat on the Joint Chiefs of Staff and that he could order the specialist to go to hell and be obeyed, when he was interrupted by a series of explosions and the sound of small arms fire erupting from the other side of the Capitol building. Sepulveda spun as his hand dropped to the pistol holstered at his hip. In the distance, dark smoke rose into the air as the sound of automatic weapons rose and fell. One of the men in the guard shack came to the door and said in a frantic voice, “We just got a report that there’s a firefight going on in Dog town.”
Trying to take advantage of the situation, Eastridge said in a commanding voice, “Specialist, gather your men and proceed to Dog town. My men and I will guard the Capitol.”
Sepulveda was about to obey when the other guard came to the door again and waved him over. He spoke quietly for a few seconds, then disappeared inside. Sepulveda turned slowly as he eyed the General. Slowly, he started pulling his pistol from its holster as he said, “I regret to inform you that I will have to detain you, sir.”
Eastridge cringed inside. The last thing he wanted was to have to kill Americans, but he knew there was no other choice. This was another crime that The Chairman would have to answer for in hell.
Dropping into a crouch, he yelled, “Fire,” as he pulled his pistol.
***
Recalling that it was the same make and model radio they had used at the station, Steve felt a sense of déjà vu wash over him as he took the headset from the operator. Placing it on his head, he adjusted it and nodded to the woman at the control board. She pointed to him, letting him know he was live.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “Attention, Fort Polk, my name is Steve Wendell and I am the leader of a small band of survivors out of Clearwater, Florida. We are currently located to the west of you at an encampment named Fort Redoubt. In our group, we have a person that is immune to the HWNW virus. I have been told that you have orders against any contact with civilians, but this girl may hold a cure for the disease. Please advise, over. I will be repeating this message every fifteen seconds.”
***
Lieutenant Dwight listened in disbelief to the radio traffic coming out of Washington, D.C. Here at Fort Polk, they had gone on full alert when they received the reports of fighting in the Capitol, but the question remained: on alert against who? At first, it appeared the Marine Corps and the Army were having it out in the east end of the secure zone, but why? And even then, some of the Army units stationed in the Capitol were reporting that they were fighting side by side with the Marines, while others were calling out that they were neutral. No one seemed to really know what was going on, but this didn’t stop the radio operators from adding to the confusion by reporting whatever rumor they happened to hear.
So far, they had heard that:
The Capitol building and the White House were under siege.
The Navy was preparing to shell the city.
It was a coup and the Chairman had been taken into custody trying to flee the Capitol.
The Chairman was still in power and had crushed the attackers.
The dead had breached the wall and were pouring into D.C.
It was aliens.
It was the Russians.
It was the Chinese.
It was all bullshit, Dwight thought as he took a sip of coffee.
Reaching forward to set his Styrofoam cup on his desk, his hand stopped in mid-air when he heard one of his radio operators call out that they had civilian radio traffic coming in. Although they received calls for help every day, they were under orders to ignore them.
With the exception of one.
“Put it on speaker,” Dwight told him.
The Lieutenant only caught the end of the message, but it was enough to know that this was the group they were listening for. Picking up his satellite radio, he called the number he had been given by General Eastridge’s aide. When the call connected, Dwight thought he would have to try again because of all the interference. Then, he realized that he was hearing the rattle of gunfire. In the background, he could hear someone calling out orders to flank the strong point in the west wing and enter the building.
After a few seconds of this, a voice finally came through the radio saying, “Johnny, I need you to concentrate your fire on the roof. Those snipers are giving us hell.”
Not sure who he was talking to, Dwight said, “This is Lieutenant Dwight. I’m trying to reach General Eastridge.”
“This is his aide, Captain Moore,” came the reply.
Slightly confused, since this wasn’t the name of the General’s aide, he said, “I need to speak to Major Compton.”
“That isn’t going to happen, Lieutenant.” Moore told him. “He’s gone. I’m the General’s aide now, so what do you want? In case you can’t hear, we’ve got a few things going on right now.”
“I was told to report to the General when we received any radio contact from anyone that’s immune to the HWNW virus, sir,” Dwight said.
“That isn’t going to happen either,” Moore said abruptly. “The General took a round to the hip. He’s unconscious.”
“Then I need further orders,” Dwight told him.
The sound of heavy gunfire followed by three loud explosions came through the radio. Moore said, “Wait one.”
If it weren’t for the sound of sporadic rifle fire coming through the headset, Dwight would have thought the connection had been broken.
After a few seconds, Moore came back on the line and said, “These are your orders.”
***
Steve looked at the radio in disbelief. His body felt weak, and his head spun from what he had just been told to do. He barely felt it as Heather laid her hands on his shoulders and he barely heard her say that they would find a way, no matter what those scumbags in D.C. had decided. Visions of a short helicopter ride to safety left him in a rush, replaced by the fear of what they now faced. Trying to shake it off so he could think clearly, he found the idea of having to travel hundreds of miles more through a land populated by the flesh-eating dead too much to comprehend.
Taking off his headset, he spun around in his chair to find Rick Styles looking at him from across the room. The two men made eye contact, and Steve could see that the disappointment on the man’s face was obvious. After a few seconds, Rick turned and left the room.
Knowing
there was nothing else he could do here, Steve got up to follow him. They had a lot of preparation ahead of them, and there was no way they could put everything together by themselves. They might not be able to take the commander’s daughter to safety, but they needed Rick’s help.
A lot of it.
As he and Heather left the radio room, he heard her say with disgust, “I can’t believe they told us that we have to make it all the way to Arkansas on our own,” snorting, she continued on in a mimicking voice, “by the best possible means available.” Clenching her fists, she went on in with derision dripping from every word as she asked, “And those bastards can’t even spare one helicopter?”
Trying to talk it through so he could find some reason, Steve said, “Lieutenant Dwight told us that everything was grounded indefinitely until they resolved a crisis that had arisen in D.C.”
“Yeah, they’re waiting for a loud, popping noise,” Heather said venomously, “and that would be their heads coming out their asses. And when you asked him how long until the crisis was over, I couldn’t believe Lieutenant Whatshisname just kept telling you to proceed to a research facility at Russellville by the best possible means available.”
Feeling that his growing anger at the situation would spill out if he spoke any more on the subject, Steve decided to remain silent. The last thing he needed right now was to let his rage loose at what was happening.
The primary reason being that he didn’t think he would be able to stop it.
When he was told that no help was coming because of some problems in D.C., his initial reaction was to change his destination to Washington and grab someone by the throat. The government had been looking for people that were immune to the HWNW virus so they could come up with a cure, and when they were offered one on a silver platter, he and his people were kicked to the curb and told to fend for themselves.
As his disgust rose, Steve reminded himself that anger is only fear coming out sideways. Fear can be dealt with, he told himself, but going off on a tangent will cloud your judgment. Fear will cloud your judgment, too, but you’ve been dealing with the fear of being killed and eaten since day one. Nothing has changed except you. Time to suck it up, buttercup, this is where the metal hits the meat. You need to be cool, calm and collected to get through this.