by Victor Zugg
Tiff began untying the backpacks from the top. “My sentiments exactly.”
Sam, Chet, Tiff, Forsyth, and Davis transferred the gear from the buggy to the back of the Hummer, including the two gas cans, while the men from the machine gun mounted Hummer kept watch. When all was loaded Sam did a final exam of the buggy to ensure nothing of value was left behind. He then removed the keys from the ignition and stuck them in his pocket.
Chet walked up. “Memento?”
“Yeah,” Sam replied. “I hate leaving her behind. A lot of work went into building this thing.”
Forsyth joined them. “Gentlemen, we need to scoot.”
Sam admired the buggy for a second more and then turned toward the Hummer.
Chet put his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “You can build a better one,” he said with a repressed chuckle.
“Not funny.”
Chet removed his arm. “Okay, okay.” They piled into the Hummer where Tiff was already waiting.
“Finished with your goodbyes?” Tiff asked.
“He’ll be okay,” Chet said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
Sam was quiet as he looked back at the buggy one more time.
“Everything loaded?” Forsyth asked, as he slid into the driver’s seat.
“We’re set,” Tiff responded.
Forsyth started the Hummer, put it in gear, and pulled out. The mounted Hummer fell in behind and they accelerated to fifty to catch up with the convoy. They had gone about five miles when they came up to the convoy pulled over to the side. Forsyth pulled up and stopped next to Lieutenants Harvey and Jensen standing behind the open ambulance.
Everyone piled out of Forsyth’s Hummer and approached.
“Is the captain okay?” Sam asked.
“I’m fine,” Jeffries said in a weak voice from the back of the ambulance.
Sam walked over and peered inside. Jeffries was still on the stretcher. His shoulder was bandaged, his arm was in a sling, and his face was ashen. Jeffries tried to raise his head but then put it back down.
“Probably better not to move too much,” Sam said. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit but better than before.”
“I understand there’s a field hospital set up at the airport,” Sam said.
“Yeah, that’s where I’ll be for a couple of days,” Jeffries replied. “How did you make out back there? Where’s your buggy?”
“Shot to hell. Sergeant Forsyth here took pity and offered us a ride.”
“Looks like you’re going with us to Atlanta then,” Jeffries said.
“Looks like. Seriously, we really appreciate the ride.”
Jeffries tried to raise his head again. “Don’t mention it.”
The medic sitting next to Jeffries’ stretcher looked at Sam. “He needs to rest easy.”
“I actually don’t feel that bad,” Jeffries said.
“That’s the drugs, sir. You don’t want that shoulder to open up. You need to lie still.”
Sam tapped Jeffries’s foot. “I’ll check on you at the hospital. It looks like we’ll be hanging around a bit longer than expected.”
“The more the merrier, major,” Jeffries said with a weakening voice.
Sam turned to Harvey and Jensen. “Okay with you guys if we tag along, at least to Atlanta?”
“No problem, major,” Harvey said. “We’ll be moving out as soon as Lieutenant Jensen and I get back to the front. You guys can stay with Sergeant Forsyth in his ride.”
“Thank you, lieutenant. We’ll try to stay out of your way.”
Harvey nodded. He and Jensen returned to their Hummer, got in, and sped off.
Forsyth, Davis, and Tiff hopped in the Hummer. Chet hung back with Sam.
“I don’t relish the thought of walking to Tennessee,” Chet said. “We need to find another vehicle.”
“I don’t think I could walk to Tennessee. We definitely need to find another vehicle.”
Sam and Chet took their seats in the back of the Hummer and waited for the convoy to start moving. Sam watched as Harvey’s Hummer pulled into the front of the line.
Forsyth broke the silence. “I’ve worked with Lieutenant Harvey for a couple of years. He’s a good man.”
“I think you’re right, sergeant,” Sam replied.
The radio in the Hummer squawked with Harvey’s voice. “Oscar mike.”
Engines along the line came to life, and the vehicles pulled out, one after another. Soon the convoy was up to their forty cruising speed with Sam, Chet, and Tiff in the second to the last vehicle. The mounted Hummer brought up the rear.
Sam looked over at Chet. “Is one of those ammo boxes handy?
Chet reached behind the seat and produced a box of 5.56.
Sam flipped open the lid and began refilling his two magazines.
Tiff popped the clip out of her rifle and started doing the same.
Soon, the convoy was back on Interstate 75 and moving north. Two hours later they crossed the 285 beltway exchange and then exited onto North Central heading west. Sam saw plenty of people heading out of the prior towns, walking along the roadsides carrying what they could, but none of that compared to what he saw now. The number of people leaving Atlanta all at once was unimaginable. Sam was reminded of the ants that suddenly appeared after he stepped on an ant bed when he was a child. Except, in this case, all the ants were traveling in the same direction.
“Where are all these people headed,” Tiff asked.
“Anywhere out of Atlanta,” Forsyth answered. “It’s like this with all the large cities.”
“Fear to chaos to pandemonium,” Chet said.
“The only difference between them and us is we have a plan,” Sam said.
Everyone was silent.
Finally, Sam cleared his throat. “Has anyone been to this part of town?”
“Not the streets,” Tiff replied, “but I’ve flown into the airport numerous times.”
“Somebody knows where they’re going,” Chet said.
Sam made a mental note of the turns. North Central to Atlanta Avenue, then Airport Loop, a left on Taffy Terrace, and then into the Fast Jet terminal area.
Sam leaned forward to get Forsyth’s attention. “Fast Jet?”
Forsyth glanced back. “Yeah, all units are rendezvousing at this terminal. There’s plenty of space in the building and on the pad, it’s fenced, and there are several hotels across the street.”
Chet leaned forward. “Power and water?”
Airman Davis turned to face Chet. “Nope. Not in the hotels. We have shielded generators for essentials, like the field hospital, but nothing else.”
“Who’s in charge?” Sam asked.
Forsyth glanced back again. “Last I heard it was Lieutenant Colonel Matthew Byers. He’s active duty army out of Fort McPherson.”
Chet leaned forward. “Why not just rendezvous at Fort McPherson?”
“Not enough room. Plus, they wanted the security forces closer to the southeast counties. Most of the gang activity emanates from there.”
Forsyth followed the convoy around the right side of the large Fast Jet hangar and came to a stop on the pad between the building and a smaller hangar across the pad opposite Fast Jet. A group of men in uniform walked out of the large open hangar and met Lieutenants Harvey and Jensen as they stepped from their Hummer. The Lieutenants saluted the man leading the pack. They spoke for a few minutes and then started walking toward the end of the convoy.
Sam, Chet, and Tiff exited the Hummer along with Forsyth and Davis.
Chet looked around the area. “Now what?”
“Good question,” Sam said, as he started walking to meet the group approaching the ambulance. “Looks like we’re about to meet Colonel Byers.”
Chet and Tiff accompanied Sam. Everyone met at the rear of the ambulance as the rear doors opened. The two combat medics lifted and carried Jeffries, still on a stretcher, and set him on the tarmac in front of Byers.
“How are you
feeling, Frank?” Byers asked.
“Better. I should be ready for duty in a day or two.”
Byers looked up at the medics. “How’s he doing?”
The ranking medic pointed to his own right shoulder. “The round went through the shoulder. I couldn’t detect any broken bones. We stopped the bleeding and put him on antibiotics to prevent infection. And he’s on pain meds. If no complications develop, he should be mobile in a couple of days. Of course, the doc needs to take a look.”
Byers looked down at Jeffries. “Frank, we’re going to get you over to the field hospital so the doc can make sure all is okay.”
Jeffries nodded. “Sorry about this sir.”
“Not your fault. Just get better soon.”
The two medics picked up the stretcher and headed toward a large enclosed trailer with a red cross on the side parked at the edge of the tarmac. Jeffries nodded at Sam as the medics carried him by.
Byers approached Sam. “Who might you be?”
Before Sam could answer, Harvey spoke up. “Sir, this is retired air force Major Sam Pratt. He and his friends were traveling in a working vehicle to Tennessee when they happened upon the convoy in Valdosta. They lost the vehicle when we came under fire by some rednecks. I saw no harm in giving them a ride.”
Byers looked at Sam without offering a handshake. “Sorry about your vehicle, but we won’t be able to host civilians at this facility.”
Sam glanced at Chet, who was beginning to develop a perturbed expression, and then back to Byers. “We understand colonel. We’ll be out of your hair as soon as we can get our gear together.”
“Fine, major.” Byers immediately turned to Lieutenant Harvey. “Lieutenant, you’ll be in command of your force until Captain Jeffries can return to duty. That includes the army guard. Any problems with that?”
“No sir.” Harvey saluted as Byers and his entourage turned and walked away.
Sam stepped closer to Harvey. “Sorry if we got you jammed up.”
A smile returned to Harvey’s face. “Not a problem, major. You being here didn’t change anything. The word is he’s mighty pissed. Some troops, mostly guard but some active, have already deserted. His command is dwindling.”
“Just the same, we should probably get out of your hair,” Sam said, as he turned to Chet and Tiff. “We need to unload our gear.”
Sam, Chet, and Tiff started toward the Hummer.
Harvey stepped toward the Hummer as well. “Hold up. The colonel said he couldn’t host you guys. He didn’t say I couldn’t help.”
“It’s okay, we’ll find some wheels and be on our way,” Sam said.
Harvey went over to Forsyth and Davis who were still standing beside their Hummer and motioned for Sam, Chet, and Tiff to jump in. Harvey stuck out his hand to Forsyth. “I’ll drive.”
Forsyth handed Harvey the key and then he and Davis got in the back with Chet and Tiff. Sam took the passenger seat next to Harvey. “What did you have in mind, lieutenant?”
Harvey started the vehicle, made a U-turn, and started back the way they had come. “You need a place for tonight. Most of our guys will be in the Vacation Suites and the Royal across the street. There’re a couple of other hotels with room.”
“Are these hotels occupied?” Chet asked.
Harvey glanced back. “The patrons left when the food and water ran out. Only took a day. The hotels around here are pretty much empty except for us.”
Tiff slid forward in her seat. “What about gang activity?”
“Fairly quiet around here,” Harvey answered. “The center of town is a war zone but they are spreading out as food becomes scarce?”
“How did you get all this information?” Chet asked.
“Updates over the radio as we drove up,” Davis replied.
Harvey made a left on Taffy, drove over Airport Loop, and a left on Virginia. He then made an immediate turn into the parking lot for the Huddle Hotel.
“You seem to know your way around,” Tiff said.
Harvey stopped near the hotel’s front entrance. “I lived near here for five years when I was younger.”
Everyone piled out of the Hummer and entered the hotel lobby. There were several people in uniform in the lobby but no one behind the desk.
Harvey stopped an air force staff sergeant walking by. “Sergeant, what’s the story with this hotel.”
“The remaining guests left yesterday, along with management and the employees. No food or water. Some security forces have taken rooms on the first floor.”
“Thank you, sergeant,” Harvey said, as he turned to Sam. “This should be okay for tonight. To maintain a low profile you may want to bunch up in one room.”
Tiff peered out a lobby window. “We’re right across the street from the Fast Jet facility.”
Harvey motioned to Forsyth and Davis. “I think we’ll stay here as well. I’ll walk back over to the pad and help get the convoy situated. We have patrols going out tonight. You guys can find a room and get settled.”
Sam shook hands with Harvey. “Thanks again for all your help. We recognize the limb you’re standing on.”
“I’ll be fine,” Harvey said, as he headed for the door.
Chet motioned with his arms. “Let’s get situated.”
CHAPTER 10
“This is never going to work,” Chet said, as he sat on a sofa trying to organize the gear in his pack.
Sam stood looking out the second-floor window at the Fast Jet compound across the street. Men in uniform were scurrying about, gassing Hummers, and loading equipment. Sam mopped his forehead with a towel. “It must be a hundred degrees in here.” He continued gazing out the window. “Looks like they’re sending everybody out tonight on patrol.”
Tiff sat on one of two double beds, also organizing her pack.
Chet looked up at Sam. “You’re blocking the breeze from that window.”
“There is no breeze from this window,” Sam said, as he continued gazing out. He finally turned from the window and walked over to his own gear. He stood for a moment looking down and then kicked his pack. “We need wheels.”
Tiff dumped everything from her backpack onto the floor. “Everything moving around here has US government property written on it.”
Chet paused. “Do you think they would miss one?”
“Martial law, remember,” Sam said. “They could shoot us for that.”
“Maybe we should go out tonight and look for an old car,” Tiff said.
Sam rested his forehead in one hand. “Anything that runs is either way out of town or in the hands of the gangs.”
Tiff nodded and went back to work.
Sam bent down and dumped the contents of his pack on the floor. “Looks like we’ll be walking tomorrow,” he said, as he began selecting items to go back in the pack. “Lighten the load. Take only what we absolutely need. We can get by with one tent.”
“Oh, joy,” Tiff said.
“Ditto,” Chet said.
Sam stuffed most items back into his pack and then pushed everything into a corner. “I say we eat, get some rest, and figure this out tomorrow.”
Chet dropped what he was doing and leaned back against the sofa. “When did we last eat?”
Tiff lay back on the bed. “I don’t know, but I don’t feel like cooking.”
Sam walked over and picked up one of the boxes of MREs. “Almost no cooking necessary.”
***
Tiff gathered the empty containers from her MRE and tossed them in a garbage can near the window. Sam and Chet continued eating.
Tiff walked back over to the sofa. “I guess I’ll sleep here tonight.”
“You can have the bed if you’d rather,” Sam said. “I don’t mind the sofa.” Actually, he wanted the bed and hoped she would decline. Sam didn’t think he could actually fit on the sofa.
Tiff opened the closet next to the bathroom and retrieved a blanket from the top shelf. She then spread the blanket over the sofa and added a pillow from one of th
e beds. “I’ll be fine here. You boys need your beauty sleep.”
Chet looked at Sam. “She must be talking about you.”
“Suit yourself,” Sam said, as he tossed his trash in the garbage can and peered out the window. “The patrols are about ready to move out.”
The sound of engines starting drifted up from the Fast Jet compound. Sam glanced at his arm where his watch used to be and realized he didn’t have a watch. “The sun is setting. It must be around eight-thirty.”
Chet joined Sam at the window. “Night patrols—makes sense.”
Sam moved closer to the window to get a better angle. “Yeah. The colonel isn’t leaving many men behind to protect the compound.”
Chet returned to his bed and lay down. “I’m sure he didn’t get to lieutenant colonel by being stupid.”
“It’s been a while since you were active duty, hasn’t it,” Tiff said.
Sam looked down at the parking lot and the two Porta-Potties along the back fence. “Think I’ll hit the head and then turn in.”
Chet stood up, followed by Tiff. “Right behind you,” Chet said.
***
Sam preferred to sleep on his side, which was the position he was in on top of the bed when he heard the voices. He had just entered that dreamy state before actual sleep, and before Chet started snoring. Sam came fully awake and listened for a few moments. Nope, wasn’t his imagination. There were definitely voices. Sam slipped from the bed and padded over to the window. There was just enough moonlight for Sam to see the silhouette of men, lots of men, lined up outside the chain-link fence that wrapped around the Fast Jet compound.
Sam crept over to Chet’s bed and poked him softly on the shoulder. Chet’s eyes blinked open.
“Problem outside,” Sam whispered. He looked over at Tiff and found she was already sitting up on the sofa.
They all three padded over to the window. Sam counted the silhouettes—thirty-three, all in single file. Four or five men were bunched at the head of the line.
“What are they waiting for?” Chet whispered.
Tiff cocked her ear. “They’re cutting the fence.”
“Who would expect a bunch of thugs to attack home base using guerrilla tactics while the main force is away?” Chet asked sarcastically.