Chet nodded to himself, then finished reloading his rifle. The man in the suit hunched over the two girls, covering them with his body. The other man was strangely quiet. Chet wasn’t sure who the man in the suit was, but he was trying to protect the girls, and that was enough for the moment. He turned to cover the southeast embankment. The firefight had lasted less than thirty seconds. The Rangers had made short work of the cannibals, most trapped in their blankets. There were no survivors.
“Clear Left,” Miguel shouted.
“Clear Right,” replied Doug.
David walked forward to the first man he’d shot and kicked him between the legs. There was no response. “Clear,” he shouted.
Silence descended for a blessed moment, then the cries of the children made it past the ringing in his ears. Geoff dropped his rifle and bounded for the gate shouting for Katie. Chet set his rifle against the chicken wire wall of the pen and shouted for Lori.
With Chet’s help, Geoff tore the gate free and rushed forward to his daughter. He pushed the suited man aside ignoring his babbling and the man’s cry as he landed roughly on top of the last occupant of the pen, the man with no legs. Geoff scooped Katie up in his arms and fell to his knees as she wrapped her arms around him. He began whispering in her ear, words that neither of them could yet hear.
Chet gasped as he saw the long gash in Lori’s leg, and carefully picked the child up and walked out of the pen.
“It’s going be okay honey. I’m here. We’re going home to Mommy. It’s going to be okay.”
The girl wrapped herself around him and hung on with a fierceness that surprised him. He walked toward open air and away from the nightmare, tears streaming down his cheeks. The riot of emotion was almost too much to handle; the joy of holding his daughter, the sudden absence of fear that had hounded him relentlessly for the past two days, the horror of the situation, the conflicting glee of revenge, and the anguish of taking a life.
From across the trestle, Jack watched, checking the embankment to either side of the overpass in case he’d missed anyone. The noise from the shooting under the bridge was startling even 200 yards away. It was all over in a surprisingly short time, and the sudden silence was almost as shocking.
Jack was watching the camp though Lexi’s binoculars when he noticed a wave from one of the Rangers. He rose from his position behind the big rock and headed to for the trestle. Jack flipped on his radio and waved back.
“Jack, We’re clear here. Can you verify the target on the trestle?” the voice on the radio asked.
Jack clicked on the mic, “Hard to check, he went over the edge, but there’s no doubt I hit him.” He shuddered at the memory. In one respect it was getting easier to pull the trigger, he no longer had any doubt he could do it. Jack knew he’d survive the emotions that would follow, but he also knew he would have three more ghosts haunting his dreams.
“Copy that. Come across and check the eastern sentry then. I’m sending Doug to check the other.”
“Roger that.” Jack started an easy jog across the trestle. “I’m coming across the trestle now. I’ll signal before I come back.”
“Copy that. I'll send Doug and David up top to guard."
“Copy. Jack out." He wanted to ask about the girls but…first things first.
He headed up the embankment onto the road and turned east. After a short distance, he realized he needn't walk on the shoulder since there would be no traffic. Might be safer going down the middle. His path veered to the right. As he approached the campfire, he could see the man’s body lying next to the fallen chair. He stopped and dug the binoculars out of his chest pack. He checked the surroundings then watched the body for a few minutes. It showed no sign of life.
Jack put the binoculars back in his chest pack and brought up his rifle. He set the zoom to 3.5, the lowest setting, and wished for the moment he’d had his 1-6x scope instead of the 3.5-10x. After a moment’s thought, Jack slung the rifle, drew his pistol, and switched on the reflex sight. He moved up cautiously, watching for any sign of life, half expecting the body to jump up and attack him. When Jack got to about twenty feet, he could see the damage the subsonic round had done to the man’s head. Even if he were a zombie, he wouldn’t be getting up again. Jack’s mouth quirked into a brief smile that passed as quickly as the thought itself.
Jack moved forward and then flinched back from the stench. There were definite signs that the man’s bowels had voided, the smell was horrible, but it was more than that. There was an overtone, something tangy and sour. They’d given up on washing when they gave up being human. No animal would let itself get this dirty.
He stepped back and took a few deep breaths, and the queasy feeling in his stomach receded. Jack moved forward again to retrieve the fallen weapon. It was a Remington 700 with a synthetic stock and a scope. It looked to be in fair shape. The scope had a couple of small scuff marks, probably from falls. He worked the bolt and emptied the chamber. A quick glance revealed more rounds in the magazine, which he also removed. It was an excellent weapon, and he felt sure it would help the camp with hunting and defense.
Jack pulled his buff up over his nose hoping to lessen the stench and went to check the man’s pockets. He found a wallet in a chest pocket of the jacket, a full box of 30-06 and a few loose rounds in a lower pocket. He looked at the round he’d taken out of the rifle. Winchester .270, same as the loose rounds. Why the hell was he carrying a box of 30-06? Did the idiot not know the difference? Jack stared at the box considering the notion, then opened it just to be sure. He could tell by feeling the size difference that they weren’t the same rounds. Definitely not .270 rounds. The guy probably never held a gun in his life before everything went to hell. Jack made a mental note to double check all the ammo they collected, the guns too.
In another pocket, he found a 9mm Glock with three magazines and a dozen loose cartridges. He also found a plastic bag with some meat in it. Flipping the bag over, he saw the skin and teeth marks. Jack dropped the bag, spun, and vomited with such force it took him to his knees. He turned away and crawled toward the fire. Jack opened his eyes just long enough to be sure of his aim, reached back grasping for the bag and tossed it into the flames. He turned away and headed back for the overpass. Once he was beyond the range of the stench, he stopped and pulled a water bottle from his chest pack and rinsed his mouth of the sour taste.
“Damn, I need a shower.”
41
HAZARDOUS WASTE
Jack saw the girls sitting on their father’s laps rocking. Both parents had moved out into the sunlight where it was much warmer. The sun was poking through the clouds for the first time in a week. The memory of the plastic bag tugged remorselessly at his control, and he could feel the bile rising again. Jack stepped out of the shadows and the light of the sun seemed to burn away the feeling of horror. He signaled to Miguel that he was going back up top. The Sergeant followed.
“Mary, Mother of God—Jack, they carved chunks off that guy and kept him alive.”
“Yeah, I found some of the results in a plastic bag on that sick… Back there,” Jack said, flipping a hand toward the east. “We need to get out of this camp.”
“Working on it, the guy with the missing legs will need a stretcher. The guy in the suit figures he can walk with a crutch. I think he’s cracked, but I figure we’ll let him try. If he can’t, we’ll need to help him. Chet and Geoff haven’t put their kids down since they opened the pen. It’ll be a long hike if they’re going to carry them the whole way.”
“You think you’ll get those fathers to let go of their kids?”
“No and I’m not going to try either. Chet’s little girl hasn’t said a word. She just wrapped her arms around her Dad and hasn’t let go. The other one just stopped crying a few minutes ago. I think she’s exhausted.”
Jack nodded. The fathers wouldn’t want to let go, and the kids wouldn’t want to be let go. It would be a long walk carrying a child.
“So who’s the guy in th
e suit?”
“A doctor from Pasco. The guy has been through hell. I guess he tried to escape and they smashed his foot, which is why he’s using the crutches. He says they broke at least two bones.”
“Ouch.” Jack winced in sympathy. “Did he have anything to do with keeping the other guy alive?”
“I think so. It looks like a professional stitch job. The Doc doesn’t think the guy will last much longer.”
Like a passing cloud blocking the sun, an idea stole into Jack’s conscious thoughts sending a shiver through his entire body. “Oh…dear God. Were they going to use him to carve up those kids and try to keep them alive?”
“Yeah. Sweet Mary, Mother of God, I don’t know what would be worse? Trying to keep people alive, knowing what was going to happen, or to let them die, knowing you’d be next.”
“Do as much damage as you can and make them kill you fast? Damn. That’s just…” Jack ran out of words
Miguel nodded. There wasn't much he could say.
While David and Sameer worked a stretcher, Miguel moved everyone out from under the overpass and away from the stench of the dead. Jack went through the camp and collected any useable weapons. He frowned when he found one Garand laying in the gravel with several fresh scratches. The other was tangled in chicken wire, and it took several minutes to twist the fencing material out of the way.
Doug appeared from nowhere, and Jack nearly dropped his bundle of rifles and pistols.
"Damn, do you always sneak up on people like that?"
"Sorry dude, let me give you a hand with that.”
Jack let Doug pick weapons out of his arms until he had a manageable handful.
Once they got underway, Geoff and Chet carried their daughters, refusing to put them down. The man in the suit hobbled on the makeshift crutches, mumbling to himself. He seemed coherent enough when Hernandez asked him a direct question, but he was clearly traumatized.
Sameer had rigged a sling litter to haul the legless man and the weapons and ammo from the camp. Jack walked along the right side, holding one pole, Sameer holding the other. He’d made tiny skis out of some corrugated metal sheeting he found in the camp. The skis supported the trailing ends making it easier to drag the litter. Miguel was moving up and down the line making sure no one was lagging. Doug, as usual, was out in front. They moved at a slow pace. The Doctor hobbled along with his crutch while David stayed at his side to catch him if he stumbled.
“I’ll need to bring back several men, picks, and shovels to bury the bodies,” said Sameer.
“Just let the scavengers have them,” said Miguel.
“It’s not them I’m concerned with. I’m afraid whatever diseases they have will be carried to the camp,” said Sameer.
“Sameer, I think you'll find solid rock under a shallow layer of dirt. Might be better to haul them up the hill well away from the river and just let the scavengers have them,” said Jack.
“The best thing would be to burn them I suppose, but we cannot afford the fuel,” said the young man.
“Dead bodies are rarely responsible for spreading disease. Once the body dies, the diseases follow pretty quickly. Some blood-born-viruses can be a problem, HIV in particular, but in general…” Jack shrugged.
"Perhaps, but I must protect what I have. These people have been very kind, and it is my duty to protect them," he replied.
Jack shrugged. Sameer had a mission, and it seemed that nothing would turn him from his path. Sometimes a preconception was so deeply embedded that trying to argue was a waste of breath. This seemed like one of those times.
"You're a good man Sameer. We can come back with the horses tomorrow. We'll drag the bodies well back from the river, and if we can find enough soil, I'll help you bury them."
“You are very kind Jack, that would be an immense relief. I will see if we can get a few more volunteers, it will be a very big job.”
“It’ll be a piece of work for sure.” Jack paused for a minute then asked, “Sameer, what did you do before…”
“I was working on my masters in agriculture. I have a degree in mechanical engineering from the University of Washington, but WSU has a most excellent agriculture program.”
“Seems an odd but useful mix.”
“Yes, yes, I had hoped to return home and start a business improving farms so we can feed our people more efficiently and with less cost.”
Jack considered telling him about the nuclear exchange between India and Pakistan. Sameer had no way to contact his home, and Jack didn’t have enough reliable information to tell him anything useful. It would just do more harm than good.
As they struggled back toward the campground, Jack learned that the man in the suit was a surgeon from Pasco that the cannibals had captured. He wondered if one of them knew there were downsides, other than social, to consuming human flesh. Had they wanted a doctor or had he simply gotten lucky and told them who he was before they started in on him? If you could call that luck, the thought sending a shiver down his arms.
Jack changed positions with David and used the opportunity to radio ahead. “Lexi this is Jack.”
“Jack, this is Lexi. Is everything okay, did you find them?”
“Yeah, we’re on our way back, maybe ten or fifteen minutes. Tell your mom we’ve got one man with major injuries, one with a broken foot, and one of the girls has a pretty nasty looking gash on her leg.”
“Oh my God. Who got hurt.”
“The guys are fine, the…” Jack struggled for the right word and finally gave up.
“The cannibals had two other prisoners besides the girls.”
“Jack it’s Rachael. How bad?”
“The one guy is missing both legs. The other guy is apparently some kind of doctor and managed to stitch him up, but it’s bad. He’s been unconscious the whole time. The doctor has a broken foot, but he’s moving with a crutch that David made for him. Chet’s daughter has a six-inch gash on her left leg. It’s been wrapped up but…It’s not good.”
“Okay, we’re heading your way.”
Jack looked toward the camp and could see a crowd of people heading their way. Dashing ahead of the group were two women, Cathy Quigley and Tina Beals. The fathers looked up at the shouts. They reached deep but there were no energy reserves to draw from. Days of extreme stress, hypothermia, frostbite, little sleep, and even less food, had drained them to the core. The best they could manage was to trudge forward, step by step.
JACK WATCHED as Rachel wiped her hands with a towel and headed toward his table. She looked, paradoxically, energized and slightly haggard. He rose to meet her half way. Jack passed Geoff who was sitting on the ground, holding little Mary and leaning back against Tina’s legs. Tina was sitting in a chair with Katie snuggled up tight against her, sound asleep. Geoff looked up as Jack passed and smiled for the first time since they’d met. Jack smiled back and continued on toward Rachael.
“We need to talk about Doctor Steinwald,” said Rachael.
Jack nodded.
Rachael played with her hair for a moment while she considered how best to approach this. “I don’t think he can stay here.”
“Okay…”
“I mean, he can, the camp is willing enough, but… Doctor Steinwald blames himself, and he can’t stop thinking about what had just happened to that man and what was sure to happen to those little girls. He can barely hold it together. I think he wishes he’d forced those…monsters, to kill him. Intellectually he knows it wouldn’t have helped the girls at all, but emotionally? Jack, the man is a wreck.”
“Ah, yeah I can see that. I sure as hell would have made sure they killed me before I did something like that, but then I wouldn’t have been able to save anyone’s life either. So what? You think we need to take him with us?”
“Maybe we need to take the girls and their families with us and leave him here.”
“What? No, we just can’t. The Doc maybe, but—”
Rachael sighed, “I know it sounds…crazy, I guess. Bu
t look, if we take him, that leaves the people here with only an EMT and…”
Rachael paused, struggling to explain it. She already felt like Jack’s home was her home, even though she’d never been there. She knew so much about it by now. She considered the people who lived there friends, even though she’d never met them.
“And?” Jack wasn’t sure if there was another shoe to drop or if she just didn’t know how to explain it.
“He won’t stay here if the girls are around to remind him of what almost happened. He's going to see this whole thing as his personal failure, probably for the rest of his life. Unless we do something, find some way to make him feel useful.”
Rachael reached up to rub her temples. Jack stepped closer and slipped his fingers under hers, gently rubbing circles. Her arms dropped, and she sighed as she leaned her head against his chest.
"Take a breath. We'll do something. We just haven't decided what yet. There's a lot to consider, and I still don't have a clear idea of what's possible."
After a few minutes, she took his hands in hers and kissed them. She stepped back from him and rolled her head to ease the tension in her shoulders. The crease between her brows faded and she felt the tension in her jaw lesson. She paused to gather her thoughts and then continued. "The patient hasn't woken up yet, and Doctor Steinwald doesn’t think he will. We can’t give him fluids, and he’s lost too much blood. It looks like total organ failure. He isn't going to make it, and when he passes, I'm afraid Doctor Steinwald will just wander off and die."
“I don’t understand. If he’s a surgeon, surely he’s had patients die on him before?”
Rachael sighed. "It's…different. When they told him he was going to cut off the man's leg, he tried to escape. When they brought him back, they crushed his foot to keep him from running off again. Then they made him watch while they hacked the leg off the other man with a hatchet. He managed to get a tourniquet on the leg, but the man had lost a lot of blood. The next day they showed up with the little girls. He knew what was coming next."
Solar Storm: Homeward Bound Page 44