by David Peters
“So what I had wondered was what various insecticides might do with these samples. I tried several of the brand name products we had around here but found limited or no success. After a little research I found an old formula made from a particular plant that occurs quite commonly in our temperate zone. Watch the results please.” Doc used a tiny eye dropper and placed a small amount of a blue liquid on the slide. The liquid spread out on the small slide and moved ever closer to the Corrupted cells.
“Watch this, it’s simply amazing.” As the edge of the liquid touched the sample the cell walls burst and liquefied on contact. In just a few more seconds there was nothing on the slide but a light blue sludge.
“I don’t have all the equipment to tell me exactly what is going on but I think this stuff works like a nerve agent on the Corrupted. It actually causes the cell walls to lose their cohesive structure. At a molecular level the walls simply release their bonds. They come apart and disintegrate. Now these particular cells are from what they have for lungs but I think the demonstration is an accurate example of what would happen to a live Corrupted, especially if it was to inhale the agent.”
“So how easy is this to make Doc?” Dylan asked with skeptical interest. He held up the small vial of liquid and held it up to the light.
“It’s a little early to say how much is needed for a lethal dose but the numbers I have run look very promising. The base form of the compound once dried looks very similar to flour or powdered sugar but it has a very sharp blue color and a smell very similar to burnt dried grass or wood.”
“How rare is the plant you need to make this from?” Niccole asked with a hint of concern. “Is this something we can cultivate here or are we going to be scavenging all over the woods looking for this thing?”
“I made this from what I could gather from various people around the camp.” Doc put a large paint can of the powder on this desk, “The leaves of the plant make a nice tea. The flowers that people let dry for decoration make this powder. Remember what the hillsides around town look like in late spring? Those fields of white daisies are what we make this with.”
--9--
Dylan and Niccole walked slowly back to the cabin with the blue door. There was still a lot of activity as the Guardsmen went about the process of setting up their tent homes. The center of the town square was now completely covered in the olive drab canvas and equipment. Dylan nodded to the few that acknowledged them in passing but continued on without stopping for conversations.
Once inside their cabin they found Jen, Cap-Cap and Erica sitting around the small dining room table. Erica had her ever preset clip board in front of her and was furiously taking notes as the captain finished up what he was saying.
Erica looked up with a smile, “We have everyone tucked in pretty well. We don’t have much in the way of permanent housing but their tents are tougher than what we usually see with new arrivals, heavy canvas instead of some lightweight plastic or nylon. They should easily be able to bunk in them for another six months or so. Well into the fall assuming the weather doesn’t get too cold too early and we don’t get one of those insanely bad wind storms.”
Cap-Cap stood and walked into the kitchen for a coffee refill, “I can’t thank you enough Dylan, Niccole. I’m not sure where we would have gone had we not known about this place. Any of the other colonies we know of were one hell of a drive for us and simply didn’t have the room, even with the supplies we brought.”
“You are more than welcome here.” Dylan said genuinely as he took his coat off.
“I’m truly sorry to hear about your brother Dylan. I had heard bits and pieces but Erica put the whole thing together for me. Looking around the town it seems pretty apparent that he was a very knowledgeable and well liked man and was the real reason this town survived.”
“Thanks Cap-Cap. It has been pretty tough without him around,” Dylan felt the same cloud of doubt move over him and took a deep breath to get past the memory.
There was an awkward silence for several minutes before Niccole finally spoke up, “So, what other colonies are there? Everything south of us seems to have…” She caught herself before she said they were gone, “Well, they seem to not broadcast quite as much as they used to. I know there are several to the north but we hear from them so rarely.”
“There are three in Montana that we know of but food is a little scarce and the winter was far heavier there than here. Michigan had one we knew of, they were on the water and doing a lot of fishing so they didn’t have to wander around with the ‘Rupts much. There is another small one in Indiana but I don’t know the details. I keep hearing rumors about Alaska but that is one hell of a trek for nothing but a rumor.”
Dylan asked cautiously, “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to the rest of your squad?”
Cap-Cap sat back down at the table and looked into his cup, “I think you could chalk that one up to bad management. The attack we led on Boulder went too well,” there was sadness in his voice as he continued. “It made us cocky, well, it made the General cocky. I had gotten used to us constantly underestimating the Corrupted. When the big push was made to hit the Santa Fe hive he thought we would simply roll over like we did in Boulder. We didn’t know yet that all we had done in Denver was damage their roof. We had clues but we didn’t pay any attention to them. The higher-ups decided we were going to roll into Santa Fe with everything we had, light the place up. Artillery, tanks, armored personnel carriers, the whole nine yards. Probably would have bombed the place if we had planes left. We were going to put three of those back-pack nukes in the town and level it.”
There was a long silence as those around the table watched Cap-Cap stare into his coffee cup.
Niccole asked quietly, “What happened in Santa Fe Chris?”
He spoke more to himself than anyone else as he started the story, “It wasn’t pretty.”
Chapter 2
The sun beat down with little heat on a long line of muddy armored vehicles. The makeshift battalion stretched down the median strip of the highway with a large collection of tents set up in the center of the long line. Trailing out of one tent was a long chow line with several dozen soldiers waiting their turn for a warm meal. To the untrained eye it looked like any military would, camouflaged fatigues and rifles. To the more discerning eye they would notice entirely different unit patches on many uniforms and in some cases completely different branches of the service. All were combined together in the makeshift chow hall.
Several hundred meters off to each side of the convoy groups of pickets stood watch in their smaller Humvees. Their heavy machine guns mounted on the roofs pointing away into the distance as they scanned for any movement that wasn’t human. They had chosen this place to camp and build up their forces simply because it was so open. They could see for miles in nearly every direction. Corrupted of any type would need to cover at least a mile in the open before they could even think about harming one of the soldiers. Towards the front of the long column of haggard armor a lone figure walked from vehicle to vehicle talking with the soldiers as he worked his way up the convoy.
Cap-Cap walked the long line from back to front. It was a mix of the newest and some of the oldest. Any vehicle that could mount a weapon and had a driver was given to one of the three task forces being assembled. The motley vehicles in Task Force Iron Two stretched for nearly a quarter mile and ranged from the newest desert painted modern battle tanks to dark olive green nineteen-seventies era personnel carriers. Men and woman crawled over the armored column making last minute checks and adjustments. He ran his hand down one of the newer Abrams tanks as he slowly walked down the line. He had commanded one of these in a war that seemed a lifetime ago and a million miles away. Back then they had been nearly unstoppable, pounding across the desert with near impunity and delivering killing blows from several miles away through the pitch black darkness. Back then the enemy was simply people like the captain but speaking a different language. He knocked on the armo
red side as he thought back to a different time. The secretly crafted armor was nearly impenetrable by enemy tanks and troops. He had felt like a god in the dunes of that desert. Now more often than not the steel machines were tombs for those inside.
“Evening sir,” said a weary voice from the top of the turret.
Cap-Cap came back to the present and looked up to see Corporal Owens as he stopped cleaning the optics on the tank and threw him a salute. Cap-Cap saluted back, “How are things soldier? You getting the parts and ammunition you need? Good for fuel?”
Corporal Owens leaned against the steep slope on the front of the turret and pulled his gloves off, “For the most part sir. TC had me give up our last track pin to Sierra Six and we are shy six rounds of a full load. Have a full tank of fuel though so I guess I can’t complain too much. We have been having better luck than most as far as shit not breaking off of her. She still runs like a soldier.”
The various tank commanders had been working overtime trying to move any and all spare parts to the other tanks that needed them.
Cap-Cap could only nod and move on. They were nearly out of the tank rounds for the more modern equipment and without the usual support the tanks were a beast to try and maintain. Quite a few of the reserve tanks that were tagging along had no rounds at all for their large main guns. There was a string of empty hulks marking a trail all the way back to Denver, machines that had broken down and were robbed of anything that could be unscrewed, unmounted or unloaded. The crews that had driven them were turned into infantry in one of the armored personnel carriers. Cap-Cap could see the end of the long line looming for the vaunted mechanized division. All of them would be nothing but infantry before too much longer.
Fuel. It all came down to fuel for the vehicles. They could continue to scrap together vehicles for some time to come but ultimately it would come down to the precious fuel to move them. They could make do with the diesel they were able to syphon from the stations they passed on the freeways. Most of the fuel for the aircraft was long since used up or burned out. Without the infrastructure of trucks to move the fuel around the small fleet of aircraft they had burned through it rapidly. Now they scavenged every gas station they passed draining the tanks dry before moving on but they were burning it faster than they were syphoning it out. It wouldn’t last. He briefly wondered how well he could fight on a horse. Probably not too well, he had never ridden a horse in his life.
His confidence in his team was high but down inside he worried about what they were about to face. The Corrupted were proving difficult if not impossible to predict. He continued down the long line of vehicles nodding at some, saluting to others. Some would pretend not to see him so they wouldn’t have to stop what they were working on. He stopped at one of the older era Patton tanks. It was a dark olive green and stood several feet taller than the more modern battle tanks. The rear engine grating looked to be nearly melted through, signs of Sapper attacks that didn’t quite succeed. Not many machines had these wounds; they were usually fatal to not only the vehicle but the crew inside. Cap-Cap saw the tank commander sitting on the top of the large rounded turret eating one of the freeze dried meals they had gotten so used to.
“Evening sir,” the tank commander saluted lazily and sounded like he was about to collapse.
“How goes it TC?” Although there were multiple tank commanders in the platoon, only one preferred to actually be called TC all the time.
“Good as it can I guess. Main gun is dry but we have the only turreted fifty cal in the group. It ain’t much but it beats being a grunt sir. I’m pretty sure this is the last of its kind so when this pig finally stops…” the tank commander ended the sentence with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Get some rest if you can soldier, carry on.” Cap-Cap continued walking down the line of near museum quality tanks and armored personnel carriers. It was a long walk but it allowed his mind to wander briefly from time to time.
He found his Bradley APC at the front of his platoon. The rear door was open making a wide ramp into the back of the vehicle. He walked up the ramp and ducked inside to find his second in command barking into the battalion radio and waving his arms around in frustration.
“Why would we change the time now damn it!” said the second in command as he held his face in his hands.
“Sorry you feel that way but it’s out of our control Iron Two. Out.”
“What’s the deal Jimmy?” Cap-Cap said to the frustrated soldier.
“Sorry Colonel didn’t hear you walk in.” Jimmy gave Cap-Cap a smart salute.
“Cap-Cap is fine Jimmy. I’ll always be a captain as far as I’m concerned. What’s the radio chatter all about?” He said as he returned the salute.
Jimmy let out a sigh, “They want us going in at daybreak now instead of midnight. They are concerned about the different battle groups working together at night all of the sudden. Some shit about mixed groups with no training and fratricide and I guess half our equipment doesn’t even have night vision systems. We have trained to fight at night for as long as I have been in this…” he paused a second to try and control his anger, “outfit. Majorly FUBAR if you ask me.”
“No fighting at night, is that right? I get the distinct feeling General Kane thinks we have already won this one anyway. He thinks the only thing left is to count the bodies that don’t get vaporized.” Cap-Cap sat down shaking his head in disgust. “We have done nothing but underestimate these things from day one. From city to city we have run away with our tail between our legs. What the hell is it going to take? I like that guy and all but as a leader I think he’s really screwin’ the pooch. We finally scored one for the home team in Denver and he’s acting like he saved the planet. He is completely discounting the continued reports of Hunters in the area. I know for a fact they lost one of the sentry posts we left behind last night. Just poof, no more radio chatter behind us.”
Jimmy offered his canteen to the captain, “Not sure what to say sir. We had nearly twenty percent attrition with the Boulder fight and they called it an overwhelming success. This hive is at least ten times the size, maybe more. That’s a lot of ‘Rupts poppin’ their flamin’ guts all over us. Boulder was nothing compared to this. Only folks that think we won in Colorado where the brass and babysitters sitting twenty five miles behind the line.”
“The brass has been fighting this all wrong from the start, Cap-Cap snorted in disgust. “This isn’t some big army versus big army thing. We should be carving out green zones for people. Big fortresses were we can focus what resources we have left, not running all over the countryside in equipment that has nothing to support it. Something like we had in Baghdad or ‘Ganistan you know? Twenty foot concrete walls, gun towers, the whole works. Guess it’s a little late for that now.”
“I overheard one of the general’s runner’s say we couldn’t lose because we had air superiority. I laughed when he said it because I knew for a fact that the last Warthog we had was wrapped around a tree at the end of some concrete strip somewhere. Bastard hit a goose while taking off.” Jimmy let out a morbid laugh and continued working through the radio frequencies. “Guy wasn’t even in armor and still got fried. You just gotta love the irony in that. It’s the apocalypse and he got snuffed by a goose.”
Cap-Cap took a long drink and sat quietly for a moment. He screwed the cap back on and looked out the back of the vehicle. He could see dozens of men and women moving about doing their jobs and knew they would continue to do so until told differently. He looked down at his muddy combat boots and asked what he was thinking out loud, “Jimmy. What are you going to do if we lose?”
“Sorry sir?”
“What will you do if we attack tomorrow or maybe the next day, or whenever, and find we can’t beat ‘em? What if there are simply too many of them and not enough of us? What will you do? Do you still have family somewhere? Got anyone special to you? Do you know where you will go? Do you have a place to go?”
Jimmy sat down on his small radio sea
t. Removing his small wire frame glasses he rubbed his tired eyes. He took a drink from his steel coffee cup as he thought about the question. “My family is gone as far as I know sir. Everyone I knew lived in Spokane and it’s freakin’ gone and I’m pretty sure going to look for them would be a one way trip. Killing Corrupted is about the only purpose I have left in life so I don’t really know how to answer your question sir.”
“What if this is it for mankind? If there is no hope do you die trying to win the unwinnable or find some out-of-the-way place and finish your life as quietly as you can? I keep thinking about all the cultures that fought and lost. I didn’t think mine would be one of ‘em.”
“Sir, I will kill Corrupted until my last dying breath and hopefully that last breath lets me take a couple more of the bastards with me. There is nothing else for me. They have made me into what I have become.”
Cap-Cap nodded, “Good for you soldier. Good for you.” He handed the canteen to Jimmy and stepped out the back of the vehicle. His team continued their normal routines like nothing was wrong with the world. He thought back to what Jimmy had said and it occurred to him that he wasn’t so sure he would have had the same answer anymore. Without turning his head he spoke over his shoulder, “Hey Jimmy?”