THE TRASHMAN

by Terry McDonald

  I absorbed William’s advice, storing it in my developing warrior mind. On the firing range with Carl, my body memory took all he could give. Stance, breath control, trigger squeeze, all became natural as peeing. I didn’t have to think about where the safety was located because the moment an unfamiliar weapon was in my hand a glance was all it took to find the features. After firing thousands of rounds, my mind kept an automatic count on how many rounds I expended from a magazine.

  Carl’s wisdom.

  “Never rely on that last round unless you’re forced to or you’re out of mags. Preempt a mistake, and reload.

  “Never assume you’ve made a kill shot. I don’t care if you drop one or ten, unless you’re low on ammo, shoot ’em all again before approaching.”

  Carl’s training.

  “You saw a kick coming and took your eye off the hand that split your lip. The kick belonged to your peripheral vision. Never take your eye off your opponent.

  “Caught you out of stance, didn’t I? Shake it out. Your nuts aren’t busted.

  “Whoa, you’re going to have a lump from that kick. Go get an icepack.”

  Came the day.

  “Jesus, Ralph, pull back on your power. That hurt.

  “Fuck, Ralph, I didn’t see that one coming.

  “Nice fake, and you didn’t telegraph the move. Go get me an icepack.”

  Came the last day, I woke disoriented and it took me a moment to realize it was a natural awakening. No one was shouting at me. I looked at my watch on the nightstand. 10:00 a.m. Then it hit me. Hit me like a sledgehammer. The hangover from half a bottle of scotch the evening before ripped into existence. I needed a shower, coffee, and aspirin.

  Steaming hot water abated the throbbing headache, but I swore, challenge or not, I’d never match shots with Carl again. I hoped he felt as bad as I did. Then I took the hope back. One of Carl’s sayings was, “A man takes credit for his actions. He blames no one.”

  I left the shower and went to the lavatory. My body image in the mirror wasn’t the one I’d entered the Armory wearing. The image in front of me was a man ripped with muscles. His face was lean and chiseled. The knuckles on the hand holding the can of shaving cream were callused from hours of punching leather bags, and sometimes, Carl. I smiled at the man in the mirror. “Time to get your ass on the road.”

  I shaved and dressed in BDU’s. The dining hall was empty. I ate a quick bowl of cereal, frowning at the flavor of the reconstituted powdered milk, and went in search of my soldier/mentors.

  I found them in the security control room side by side at a counter watching a video on a wide-screen monitor. I went to stand near them.

  Carl glanced up. “Pull up a chair, we’re almost done here.”

  I rolled over another office chair, positioned it behind them, and peered between their shoulders. They were watching a recording of the rear, right section of the perimeter.

  William said, “On a different monitor, Carl saw a man at the fence last night. We’re going through the recording from the other cameras to see if he’s up to anything.”

  “What did he do at the fence,” I asked.

  Carl answered, “Nothing. He walked to it, stopped five feet away, and simply stared into the compound for a couple minutes. That happens sometimes, individuals or groups peeking in. Usually, selecting a speaker near them, and warning them off is sufficient to send them scurrying.”

  William reached to push buttons on a keyboard and the monitor went blank. “That’s enough for me, my eyes are burning. I think the guy was simply curious.” He spun his chair around to face me. “After last night, I didn’t expect you to be on your feet until noon. Carl drank you under the table.”

  Carl grinned and slapped my shoulder. “Yeah, well that’s my last time. I’m too old and out of practice for that sort of foolishness. I sent you staggering off to bed, though.”

  “That you did,” I admitted. I reached around him for the bottle of aspirin on the desk. “I see you felt it this morning.” I popped the cap and dry swallowed four of the white pills.

  William laughed. “You should have seen him at 5:00 a.m. Actually you don’t look tanked at all.”

  “Showered, shaved, and ate already.”

  William took his turn to pound my shoulder. “Today’s your day. Graduation ceremony right after lunch and then we’ll get you outfitted to depart tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll not say we won’t miss you, but I’ll be damn glad to get back on a regular schedule.” Carl stood. “I’m going out to make rounds. Let Ralph take the rest of your shift and get some rest Major.”

  William glanced at me and I nodded acceptance.

  I spent the morning with my eyes flitting from monitor to monitor. A couple of the screens showed smoke coming from the chimneys of some of the houses visible beyond the perimeter fence. There were fewer than when I first arrived and we’d noticed a drop in road traffic as well.

  Lunchtime came and Carl came to fetch me. On some occasions, they deemed it okay to leave the station unattended. This was one of them. He led me from the communications building to another building I’d never entered. The brass plaque on the door announced it to be the base commander’s office.

  I followed Carl through the door. William was sitting behind a massive oak desk. On his right, and left, near the wall behind him, stood an American Flag and a Georgia State Flag.

  “Attention, Private. Center yourself in front of the Major and snap him a salute,” Carl shouted.

  I did as ordered. Major William Allen glanced up and returned my salute.

  “Stand at ease, Private. We have business to attend to.”

  I shifted to parade rest.

  “Private Ralph Olmsted, you have completed your eight weeks of combat training. Your instructors feel you have given your all and are satisfied with your progress. I hereby state you have earned the respect of the cadre present at this base. Sergeant Chester, do the honor please.”

  Carl stepped in front of me. “You have earned the medal for expert on the firing range.” He pinned the medal above my right shirt pocket.

  William slid a small velvet covered box across the desk, “Again, Sergeant.”

  Carl opened the box and removed a small gold medallion.

  William stood. “As commander of this base I am promoting you to the rank of Major.

  Carl affixed the Gold Cluster to the flap of my right shirt pocket.

  Carl reached across the desk for a larger box. He opened it and removed a Green Beret.

  “Major, having earned a beret of my own, it is with pride that I welcome you to the select few. You earned this beret, Sir, and I’d put you up against any opponent.” He opened the beret, placed it upon my head and stepped away to salute me.

  “You are one hell of a well-trained fighting machine, Major. Do us proud in the field and remember your mission.”

  “Stand at ease, Sir,” William said. “Please restate your mission.”

  “Kill enemy combatants and bring law abiding citizens to this sanctuary, Sir.”

  Carl said, “Sir, if you don’t mind, I have one question for the new Major.”

  William nodded. “Ask it.”

  “Major, remember the girl in the story, the one who enticed the soldier to his death? Would you shoot that girl?”

  I wasn’t expecting the question and once again tried to compose an answer.

  “He paused again, Carl,” William stated with a rough tone.

  “Yeah, I noticed. What’s up with you, Sir? It’s a simple question.”

  I glared at both of them. “No, it’s not. I’ll not judge your action that day, but I will say this, I will be in charge of whom I kill and I’ll make my own decision at the time based on the situation as I see it. I will not answer your hypothetical question.”

  Carl’s frown turned to a smile to match William’s. “That was your last test, Sir. Attention! There’s an officer on deck.”

  They snapped to attention and saluted me. I retu
rned their salute and then Carl pulled me into a bear hug.

  “Be careful out there.”

  William wasn’t finished. He bent beside his desk and stood holding a long metal case in his hands. He placed it on his desk and opened it. Inside the case was a rifle with a scope.

  “Ralph, this is an Enfield .303 rifle. It’s been called the best sniper rifle ever made. This one belonged to our late base commander, Colonel Huff. Put it to good use. Carl has volunteered to devote range time this afternoon to familiarize you with its characteristics.”

  “William, Carl, I’m at a loss for words. You have honored me today and your faith in me will be a staff to support me if I ever have doubts about my ability to fulfill my mission. Thank you for opening the door and letting me in, and thank you for all you’ve given.”

  William reached into a desk drawer and brought forth a fifth of scotch and three shot glasses. “Shall we toast?”

  Carl and I groaned, but we didn’t refuse.

  *****

  My leave-taking was anticlimactic. Carl woke me at 5:00 a.m. and then returned forty-five minutes later to hustle me to breakfast. I dined on bacon and reconstituted eggs while he gave me some last minute instructions.

  “I wish we still had satellite capabilities. You’re going up against an unknown entity. You have no idea as to their numbers, armament, or defense capabilities. Even worse, you don’t know the exact location of the enemy.

  “Spend whatever time needed to recon and survey. Know everything you can about them before you make your presence known. I’ve placed a few more items inside the glove compartment of your van.

  “The Holy Bible has helped more than a few soldiers through hard times. Go to it when your strength of resolve fades, when you doubt your humanity and the goodness of the human race.

  “At the other end of the spectrum, you’ll find a fake magazine for your combat rifle. Looks like the real thing, but push in on the top round until it clicks and catches. The click will arm a quarter pound of C4 explosive. It has a failsafe so you can’t accidentally seat it in a weapon. Once armed you have five seconds to find cover before two-thousand BBs shred the environment around it.”

  “Thanks for the Bible, Carl, and for the booby trapped magazine.”

  “Thank me for the mag bomb if it works. That’s another of my inventions. My two prototypes did just fine, but hell, sometimes things fail when you need them most.”

  “I’ll keep that encouraging thought in mind.” Smiling, I shoveled in the last mouthful of eggs, chugged the dregs of the powdered milk, and stood from the table.

  “I guess it’s time for me to roll.”

  “I’ll walk you to the entrance and see you out. William asked me to say his goodbyes and wish you Godspeed. He pulled half of my shift and is getting some sleep. I jumped the Caravan last night and let it run until it had a full charge, filled your gas tank, too. In the rear compartment, I strapped two five gallon jerry cans of spare gas.”

  I was using my own vehicle instead of an armored vehicle from the Depot’s motor pool. I didn’t want the attention a military vehicle would bring. BDUs were a different story. I had grown accustomed to them and I knew that many civilians liked wearing them, too.

  Yesterday, after my graduation ceremony, Carl and I packed the weapons, explosives, and ammunition I was bringing with me. The rear of the van was loaded heavy. Carl rigged a stand between the front seats for my combat rifle, and I had a military issue .45 holstered at my side. I tossed my utility belt with my canteens, survival knife, and other items onto the passenger’s seat and climbed in. The van cranked with a turn of the key. I pulled out of the parking lot feeling like I was leaving home.

  A mile down the road, I slammed the brakes and slid to a stop. I cranked the window down, and shouted, “Salvo.” I’d barely caught a glimpse of him ducking behind a parked car, but I knew it was him.

  He didn’t respond, so I shouted his name again, this time identifying myself.

  “Salvo, it’s me, Ralph.”

  “Señor Ralph?”

  I opened the door and stepped down. “Yes, it’s me. Come on out.”

  Salvo stood and stepped into view. “You don’t look like the Ralph before. Now you are army and strong. You come from the Army place, no?”

  “Yeah, I know I look different. I feared the answer but I had to ask about his family. “You’re thinner, but look healthy. How are Mercedes and your boy?”

  “They are well. I have the old lady, too.”

  “What are you doing in Moultrie?”

  “We could not stay at the casa. Two times I had to shoot at the hombres sneaking with guns to rob and kill. Even here, I have been shot at when looking for food. So far we are lucky. No bullets find us and no plaga. How is it you are alone, Señor Ralph?”

  My heart jerked but I kept the emotion from my voice. “We were not so lucky. The plague found us. I caught it, but I survived.”

  “Si, Señor Ralph, I am sorry. I know one day the luck for us will be gone and the sickness will find us for sure.”

  I asked permission to move nearer so we could talk without shouting. “I have some things to tell you, and I want to come closer, but not too close. Even though the plague did not kill me, I may be a carrier. I’m bringing my weapon with me.”

  “Si, you come.”

  We talked for a long time. He told me about his struggles to survive since leaving the house his family had claimed. It seemed there were about twenty other survivors in town, and a few of them had a thing about people of color.

  I gave him an abbreviated version of my life since leaving for the mountains. He seemed extremely interested about my theory about antibiotics helping me survive the plague, but he waited until I finished speaking before asking questions.

  “So, if we take the antibiotics we be safe?”

  “I don’t think it works like that. I mean, you can’t take antibiotics forever. I think eventually they’d kill you. I’m saying they may save you if you start taking them as soon as you know you’ve been exposed. Salvo, I’m only guessing that’s the reason why I didn’t die.”

  “If I was immune like you say, we could go into any casa or store, even the ones full of death. Then life would not be so much the danger for us. I think we would like to try the cure Señor Ralph.”

  Ever since I’d left the truck, I could tell by the furtive glances Salvo cast toward a small building twenty feet from where he stood, a house converted to an insurance office, that his family, and probably Missus Hawkins too, were inside. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when Missus Hawkins came out and walked over to join Salvo.

  “I heard your conversation and let me explain something, young man. We have been avoiding contact with people and avoiding places where victims of the plague have died. Now you’re telling us that the ones who survived the plague are carriers. The odds are stacked against us. We’re bound to be exposed sooner than later. I think Salvo is saying some odds are better than no odds. I happen to agree with him.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think you all should take such a drastic chance just on something I suppose. I could be dead wrong.”

  “You told Salvo that the soldiers want you to bring back people to try the cure on. Why not us?”

  “Si, Señor Ralph, why not us?” Salvo said, echoing Missus Hawkins.

  “I’m to bring back enemy combatants, men who commit atrocities against other humans, men whom I should kill anyway.”

  “I’m going to the National Guard Depot and demand they try it out on me. If it works on me then Salvo and his family can chance it. I’m going there now and demand they expose me and try the cure.” Saying that, Sarah Hawkins began walking in the direction I’d come.

  Salvo called to her. “Un momento, por favor, we will walk with you.” Salvo called for Mercedes and his son to come out.

  “I wish you success in your war, Ralph,” Missus Hawkins called to me. “Don’t let it turn you into an animal.”

  I watched the
m go, hoping with all my heart that feisty Missus Hawkins survived the test, that a massive preemptive dose of antibiotics would fight off the fatal secondary effects of the plague. I knew William and Carl would not refuse her request to be a guinea pig.

  Without incident, and without seeing another living soul, I returned to the Great Smoky Mountains. Several miles before entering the Clan’s territory, I saw a sign for a hiking trail and campground, and turned onto the narrow paved road. A quarter mile in, I came to a small cedar-sided greeting building where people were to stop and pay an admittance fee.

  On a slight rise, I saw a manufactured home, most likely housing for the park attendants. The roof was covered with solar panels. The sun was close to setting, but still too bright to tell if lights were on inside the trailer. Acting on the assumption it was occupied, I pulled my assault rifle from Carl’s DIY holder and walked back down the road a hundred yards, and entered the woods to approach the trailer from the rear.

  The final fifty yards took me nearly fifteen minutes to cover. Carl had taught me a neat trick. Move laterally to your objective to a position where several large trees or thickets lined up between you and your objective and use the natural setting to shield your movement. Another thing was that the eye tends to catch fast movement and to miss things that move with stealth. I used both bits of advice.

  At the last thicket, thirty-feet away, I paused to observe the rear of the structure. The blinds at the kitchen window were open, and I could see a white refrigerator against the far wall of the room. To the right of this window, I could see straight through the living room through the window on the far side, and actually saw my van parked near the toll building.

  The blinds of the other windows on this side were closed, but I thought I could see brightness behind the one on the far end. I waited for the sun to set. There was definitely a light on inside the room and I knew, because there was no flicker, it was electric powered.

  All the time I’d waited, there had been no movement in the kitchen or living room. My thought was a switch had been left on and the solar array was the source of power for the light.