by Greg Krojac
Given new information, Jacob wasn’t entirely sure that God was indeed on their side, but he was pleased that his family had decided to stay and fight the Argon. It was his choice too, but saying it out loud was easier with the knowledge that his family agreed with him.
“So that’s it Jason. You’re stuck with us. The Miller family will fight.”
When the chips are down the value of other human beings cannot be underestimated. Sitara had experienced the fear of thinking that she was helpless and all alone, when she had been trapped in the isolation room at the hospital. She didn’t want to go through anything like that again.
“I’m not going anywhere. I mean, not without you. A family isn’t formed by blood alone. You’re my family now. We’re family. Wherever you go, I go.”
There was no point in asking Enak what he wanted to do. He had already made his allegiance perfectly clear. Jason picked up his rifle.
“I suggest everybody gets their stuff packed up into backpacks, especially food – energy bars and the like - and be ready to move out in thirty minutes. Lock and load your weapons. We don’t know what we’re going to come up against out there.”
Samuel’s brow furrowed.
“Why backpacks, Jason? We’ve got a big SUV.”
“Because I’m pretty sure it’ll be impossible to drive all the way to our destination. We haven’t seen any Argon yet…”
He glanced at Enak.
“…present company excepted, but they’re out there and if we stay on the road too long, in a car, we’ll be sitting ducks.”
Jacob asked the question that was on everybody’s minds.
“What is our destination then, Jason?”
“We’re going to the White House.”
“The White House? Why? What could be at the White House that would interest us? The Government no longer exists. And they’re all probably dead by now anyway.”
“A small percentage of the population are likely to have survived. Of the whole country maybe six and a half million people. Six and a half million people who are type B negative. Of the population of DC, that means about thirteen and a half thousand people could still be out there somewhere. People who may have banded into small groups, like us. We need to find them and unite them. We’re not going to be able to beat the Argon alone. We’re not the Magnificent Seven.”
Miriam still didn’t understand.
“But why the White House?”
“Because, it’s prepared for a situation like this. Admittedly, the Government was thinking more of being able to deal with a nuclear strike, but it’ll have its own communications network, its own power. Maybe we can communicate with people like us in other cities. The State capitals must have similar setups.”
The group had decided to stay with Jason, so they didn’t question the plan. They didn’t have any better suggestions anyway. At least now they had a destination – that had to be better than wandering around aimlessly.
Samuel went over to the vending machine and scooped the twenty cereal bars into a plastic bag, while Jason slung his rifle over his shoulder, leaving his hands free to carry two large bottles of water over to the car. Samuel didn’t particularly like cereal bars, but he figured that it made sense to take them rather than more chocolate bars. Those that they had eaten the previous night were more of a luxury, a reward for the group having survived the attack at the farmstead, but now they had to be practical. Plus, the cereal bars wouldn’t melt in the backpacks.
Jason looked at the SUV, which was now packed to the gunnels. Across the motel parking lot, were three parked cars, abandoned by their drivers. He walked over to them and checked under the wheel wells to see if the drivers had left a key anywhere. Two of the cars were secure, but the third had a key tucked in behind the front nearside tyre. Lady luck was smiling on them again. He checked inside the car before returning to the group and handing something to Sitara.
“Please tell me you know how to drive.”
Sitara looked at the key in her hand.
“Yes. I can drive.”
“Manual? I mean stick-shift?”
“Yes.”
“The SUV is cramped. You and Enak can follow behind in the car.”
“Which one?”
“The blue one on the end.”
“The Mustang?”
“Yep. It’s thirsty, but it’s got a full tank and we’re not going much further.”
Sitara was excited. She’d always wanted to drive a Ford Mustang. She knew it would only be for a few miles, but that didn’t matter to her.
Exactly forty-two minutes later the SUV and the Mustang pulled up outside the Southern Avenue Metro station. A strange air permeated the city, the wide avenues deserted, devoid of the normal daily commotion of commuters trying to get to their workplaces on time. They had half expected to see abandoned cars strewn all over the roads – dozens of doomsday movies and TV series had primed them for that spectacle – but the roads were almost empty. The virus wasn’t a sudden harbinger of death; people had known that they were going to die and had, for the most part, made arrangements to spend their final moments with their families and loved ones. Here and there was a decaying corpse, but those were the exception, not the rule. [a35]Sitara was glad that there seemed to be fewer dead on the streets than in Bethesda, she never wanted to see so many dead people again.
Jason opened his driver’s door and got out of the car, scanning his surroundings for signs of life. He went round to the back of the SUV and opened the tailgate, reaching inside for his backpack. Sitara and Enak got out of the Mustang and joined him, as he addressed the rest of the group.
“This is the end of the line, folks. Time to stretch our legs. We’re going to walk the rest of the way.”
The rest of the group obediently took their backpacks out of the vehicles and followed Jason over to the entrance of the Metro station, feeling naked and vulnerable now that they were abandoning the cars. A supermarket flyer lay on the paving outside the station entrance, serving no purpose now but to create an aesthetic distraction to the stillness of the scene. Ruth glanced up at the post by the entrance, which identified the location by its white capital M subscribed by a horizontal green bar. The words Southern Avenue Station were written on the vertical axis of the post, each individual letter tipped 90 degrees on its side. Ruth had never seen words written in that style before. She had never ridden in a metro train before, nor any train in fact. But she wasn’t going to be able to do that now either, a functioning public transit system was something that they wouldn’t see again for a long time, if at all. She was the last one to cross from the drab grey paving slabs outside the station, through the open vertically barred gates, and onto the reddish-coloured brick-style flooring of the station’s entrance hall.
As they descended the dead escalator to the platform, a little light rain started to fall, so they headed straight for one of the shelters that stood in the centre of the platform. Once under cover, Jason explained what the plan was.
“We’re going to travel underground from here, through the tunnels. It’ll be pitch black, so we’ll walk in single file, myself at the front and Enak at the rear.”
Enak had a suggestion.
“Would it not be better if I were in front? If there are any Argon patrols in there, they will see me first and the few seconds that we may gain before they realise that we are hostiles may prove to be valuable.”
Jason nodded agreement to the Argon’s suggestion.
“Enak is right. He’ll go point and I’ll take the rear. Could somebody give Enak a flashlight?”
Miriam went to pass Enak a flashlight, but he waved a finger.
“It is ok. I don’t need one. My eyesight is very good in the dark. We evolved excellent night vision in our early days on Argonorian 3.”
Samuel liked the sound of that.
“Cool, dude.”
His mother looked at him, having never heard those words come out of his mouth before. She was going to say someth
ing but didn’t, accepting the fact that he must have picked up this strange term while on rumspringa, the period that Amish adolescents spend away from the community experiencing all the virtues and vices of the outside world.
Enak gestured to the other six to wait a few seconds. He walked over to where a metal pipe lay on the platform and picked it up. Approaching the edge of the platform he deftly tossed the tube so that it straddled the second and third rails. Nothing happened. Jason nodded his head gently.
“The tracks have no power, but we should still keep our distance from the third rail. For safety reasons. The power could come back on at any time.”
The rest of the group knew that this was unlikely, as the city’s power grid had been shut off – probably by the Argons – but it was better to be safe than sorry. They climbed down from the platform onto the tracks, Ruth with a little assistance from her husband. She wasn’t used to climbing around and over things, as there had been no call for it on the farm. Her husband had done that kind of stuff, and if he ever needed help, the rest of the community had been only too willing to give a helping hand. But she was quite enjoying this adventure. She was seeing things and doing things that she had never experienced before. It was like an adventure holiday that could result in their deaths at any time. It was dangerous, but with Jason and Enak to guide her and God by her side, she now felt quite relaxed about the enterprise.
The rain started falling harder as they approached the entrance of the tunnel. Normally, they would have seen a concrete tube, sparsely lit by the lamps that were lined up at regular intervals along the walls. They would have perhaps seen the lights and heard the whine of an approaching or disappearing train. But they felt a little tense as they left the daylight to enter the dark abyss. Suddenly the tunnel was dimly illuminated as Jason switched on his flashlight.
“You may have the eyesight of a cat, Enak, but we don’t. We’ll feel better seeing where we’re going.”
Enak nodded and this time accepted the offer of Miriam’s flashlight, switching it on and allowing its beam to reach into the darkness.
The seven advanced, keeping well away from the third rail, each of them occasionally looking behind them as daylight gradually disappeared from view. Ruth tightened her grip on her husband’s hand. She had never been in a situation like this before, being used to the open spaces of the farm and the Amish community. Now wasn’t the best time to discover that she was claustrophobic, but she trusted in God to help her through this ordeal.
Very soon any remaining illumination had disappeared and the only light they had was from the flashlights, making everyone except Enak a little more nervous. They edged their way slowly along the tunnel, placing all their faith in the Argon and Jason to keep them out of trouble, Ruth holding Jacob’s hand and Miriam holding her brother Samuel’s hand. All four of them felt a need for both human and family contact to calm their nerves[a36][a37]. Sitara would have loved to hold Jason’s hand – for security purposes of course – but he couldn’t afford to be distracted from protecting their rear, so she gritted her teeth and walked steadily along the tunnels, masking her fear with fake bravado. Jason sidled up behind her and whispered in a hushed tone low enough that the others couldn’t hear.
“It’s ok to be nervous. I’m nervous too. But I’m right behind you. I won’t let anything happen to you – to us.”
This made Sitara feel a little better, although she was disappointed that he had noticed just how nervous she was. She thought she had been hiding it quite well.
Each time they approached a station - Congress Heights, Anacostia, Navy Yard, and Waterfront – brought a new risk. Of course, they were walking into the unknown with every step between stations too, but as the tunnel opened up to reveal each station, it also opened up the possibilities of an ambush. Having successfully negotiated their way past the four stations, their next destination was L’Enfant Plaza, a major subway intersection where they would have to change tunnels and follow either the Orange Line or the Silver Line to McPherson Square. They would then have to walk the rest of the route to The White House above ground.
As they neared L’Enfant Plaza, Enak suddenly raised his hand and put a finger of his other hand to his lips. The group following him waited silently as he whispered.
“Stay here. I am sure I just saw a narrow beam of light crossing our path, at about knee height. We have to be careful not to disturb it. It could be trap or, at best, it could set off an alarm.”
Enak moved forward and very deliberately stepped over an invisible obstacle. He waved Jacob forward.
“I am going to guide your leg over the light beam.”
Jacob looked at where Enak was pointing to but saw nothing.
“What light beam Enak? I can’t see anything.”
“You cannot see it, but I assure you that it is there. The light frequency is outside of your spectrum of visibility. I apologise in advance for the physical contact, but there is no other choice.”
Enak put one hand underneath the man’s thigh, while Jacob placed a hand on Enak’s shoulder.
“Jacob, when you feel the pressure of my hand lifting your leg, raise your other leg towards your chest and I will lift you up, turn and place you on this side of the obstacle. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I understand, Enak. Pressure. Lift other leg. Got it.”
With one swift movement, Jacob was on the other side of the light beam. Jacob was impressed.
“Praise the Lord, you really are strong. You picked me up as if I were a child.”
Samuel was next, and the operation was executed with similar ease and precision. Then it was the turn of Miriam. She was both nervous and a little excited by what was about to happen. Enak apologized in advance and placed his right hand under her left thigh. She gave a gasp and put her left hand on the Argon’s right shoulder. She was lifted in the air in a motion that made her feel like a ballerina, before gently landing on the other side of the beam, enjoying the tingling sensation that her body was now experiencing.
Only Ruth and Jason remained. Ruth walked forward and prepared to be lifted over the obstruction. She looked at Jacob as Enak explained what he was going to do, and her husband nodded to her that it was going to be alright. The Argon placed his hand under her thigh and started to lift her, just as he had all the others, but suddenly she wriggled free.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But only my husband has touched me there.”
Jason rushed forward and led her to the other side of the beam, knowing that there was no point in holding back now – the beam was already broken. The important thing was to be prepared for anything that might happen next.
The silence was profound as they waited in the darkness, their flashlights switched off. They couldn’t even see their hands in front of their faces. They heard whispers from the darkness, but far too quiet to make out what they were saying. Was it English or some other strange alien language? He had no idea what the natural language of the Argon sounded like, but Jason was certain that he’d be able to recognise a human tongue. Suddenly they were blinded by the glare of a trio of flashlights. A voice punctured the silence.
“Put down your weapons and identify yourselves.”
The dazzling light was moved slightly away from the group’s eyes, allowing the seven to at least make a semblance of seeing who was blocking their path, even if they were only silhouettes. The voice repeated its order.
“This is Gunnery Sergeant Lavisser, of the 1st Battalion, 10th United States Marine Corps. Identify yourselves and put down your weapons.”
Jason motioned to the others to do as they were told.
“My name is Jason, Jason Green. We’re a small group of survivors, trying to make our way to the White House, the PEOC room.”
“Why would you want to go there?”
“We were hoping we might make contact with other groups of survivors, here in Washington D.C. or maybe even in other states.”
“I can tell you now, Mr. Green,
there’s no point in trying to get to the White House. It’s in enemy hands.”
Sergeant Lavisser noticed Enak at the back of the group, trying to look as inconspicuous as a five foot six inch stocky Argon could.
“Is that an Argon you have there?”
Jason was surprised to hear the Gunnery Sergeant call Enak’s species by name.
“It is.”
“Prisoner or friendly?”
“He’s with us, he’s a friend.”
“Mr. Argon, would you mind stepping to the front of your group please, so that I might take a better look at you?”
Enak made his way to the front. A voice called out from the darkness.
“Alemal. It is Enak! It is Enak!”
A female Argon moved into the light.
“Ej, in ilewk, Enak?”
“Oidn, in ilewk imim, Alemal.”
The sergeant gave a diplomatic cough.
“Please, guys. We humans don’t have those translator gizmos that you Argon folks have.”
Enak put his hand out to shake Sergeant Lavisser’s hand.
“Of course. I am sorry. It is just that we did not know if the other were still alive.”
“No problem, Mr. Enak. We have Miss Alemal, Miss Siroll, and back at base we have a guy named Eled.”
Jason’s ears pricked up.
“Base? Is there an organized resistance?”
The sergeant shook his head.
“I wish there was. But we’re just a band of survivors who kinda stumbled into each other, just like you are. One of our guys was a secret service agent in the White House, and he knew about a secret bolt-hole down here in the tunnels.”
“How many of you are there:”
“Fifteen Marines, two doctors, three nurses, a lawyer – not that we have any need for his professional services - two short order cooks, and a couple of families. Plus the secret service guy. Plus the three Argons of course.”