5 Years After

by Richard Correll

  BAM! They both jumped at the distant sound from the stairwell. It felt loud and close. Their eyes quickly turned to the fire door. It was slightly open, resting in front of the hinge. Maggie turned to the controller and saw his lips part as he inhaled raggedly. He wanted to say something but words could not be found to articulate his fear.

  “Help me pull one of those old consoles over here.” She pointed to a darkened part of the room without taking her eyes off of the door.

  The controller was only about five foot nine inches and a hundred and fifty pounds. Not a large man by any standards and certainly not the strongest. Maggie was amazed at how much he could suddenly move, fear always got the adrenaline going. They pulled an unused console from the outer wall and maneuvered the metal cabinet in front of the fire door. It wouldn’t hold but maybe it would slow them down.

  “That’s correct, UNO 1.” Maggie listened to the voice of the air traffic controller relaying her message. His speech was a bit faster now. “The position is just past highway 89 to Innisfil Beach Road. You will have plenty of room.”

  “Understood Pearson. Over.”

  “I have an incoming message.” The controller reached over to an old office telephone. One of the lights was blinking furiously. He picked up the receiver and answered: “Pearson air traffic control.” There was a beat and he handed the phone to Maggie.

  “Corporal Hunter.” It was General Lapointe from Base Borden. It was a voice she really needed to hear. “We are five minutes out with helicopters to extract you.”

  “Thank you, sir. It’s great to hear from you.” Maggie suddenly eyed the door. She couldn’t help it. The noises they heard earlier could mean they were crawling up the stairs right now. “We have diverted the Vice President’s plane and the Secretary General’s plane to the 400.”

  “The 400?” He was taken aback by the report.

  “Yes sir,” Maggie tried hard not to step on toes. “I’m sorry. I had to make a decision.”

  “You’ve always been good at that, Corporal.” Lapointe’s voice was a whisper. “Why did you choose the 400?”

  “I ….uh…used to hang out with some street racers, sir.” Maggie felt her face flush with embarrassment. “The highway is long between bridges. It’s flat as a board with no street lights to clip the wings.”

  “Good.” He was paying close attention. “We’ll pick them up, anything else?”

  “Sergeant Chong of the 427 line was beat up pretty badly, sir.” Maggie continued. “They are falling back to the west side of the 410.”

  “Can they hold the 410?”

  “I don’t think he has the manpower, sir.” Maggie spared a look around the windows and the slow, setting sun of a day of Armageddon. Smoke drifted into the pallet of the orange haze of a sky. The sirens were in the distance. For a second she was stunned at the swiftness of the fall. “We have a real problem on our western flank.”

  “Yes, we do.” He was clearly looking at a map. “We could start by blowing the bridges heading to the 403 from the 410.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “After that,” Lapointe paused for a minute as the pieces fell into place. “We could try a containment line at the 403.”

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” Maggie grasped at a straw, “How about air support? At least it might slow them down.”

  “The CF-18’s are in Cold Lake and Quebec.” She could hear the frustration in his voice. “The CT-155’s are in Shilo. All we have is helicopters.”

  BAM!! A creaking noise followed that seemed to bury itself in Maggie’s spine. The fire door down below had just opened. Shit, we’re out of time. After the initial shock, Maggie felt a calm pass over her like a cloud passing in front of the sun. It was eerie to know that you’re life was coming to an end.

  “Sir, most of the hostiles are heading toward Derry road. I think they might start to slow down before they get there.” Maggie felt an urge to be of use right up to the end. Why? The thought needled at her insides. “I am very sure we can make a stand there.”

  “Derry Road?” He seemed to be searching for the street and then found it, “Really?”

  “Most of the 401 containment line is gathering there right now, sir.” It felt so important to get this all perfect. “I hope you concur, sir I sent them there.”

  “Good move, Corporal.” His tone changed. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m good, sir.” Maggie felt a sense of detachment take over. “We’re gonna have some company very soon, though.”

  “We’re coming as fast as we can.” Lapointe had urgency in his voice.

  “Thank you, sir.” They’re not gonna make it, I can feel it. Maggie felt almost poetic now. “We’re not giving up yet. We’ll be here.”

  “We’ll see you soon, Corporal.” Lapointe was trying so hard to be positive. “You’ve done one helluva job today.”

  “I appreciate that, sir.” She looked at the horizon with a brief second of hope and felt it dashed. There were no approaching helicopters. They were still far away. “I will see you soon.”

  It felt like a lie. But what the hell, bravery was a way of trying to make sense out of an imperfect life. Perhaps she was entitled to a few lies at the end. The line went dead and Maggie slowly placed the phone in its cradle. It was old fashioned and out of date. There were so many things these days that were like that. The world seemed to be receding back through time as modern tech failed and replacement parts were nowhere to be found. Slowly, we were step by step heading back down the ladder of our history. It was just another retreat in series of retreats. She felt the world was like a toy that was slowly winding down. Eventually, the light of life would fade. Then what? It occurred to Maggie that there didn’t have to be anything after that, just pitch black infinity. It really was where we all eventually ended up.

  Her eyes vacantly seemed to search the room before settling on Jay’s body. Her emotion was back now. It didn’t well up inside her. It imploded. Her rage had been compacted into the small place where the rest of her emotions had been hiding, afraid to show itself in the light of the moment.

  Yes sir. No sir, I fucking understand, sir. Well, I don’t fucking understand! I won’t understand! Her feet were moving now.

  Something pressed against the back of her eyelids. She knew it was raw emotion, sweet, powerful and unstoppable rage. Her boot slammed down on Otto Jay’s placid face. Maggie felt her teeth grind as an animal growl escaped her mouth and the boot came down a second time and then a third. Slowly, the shape of his face began to change. Sections of his skull slowly retreated and caved inward. Blood began to well up in the eye sockets. The thick fluid stuck to her boots and drooled over the edges of the eye sockets and snaked down his collapsing skull to stain the carpet. The adrenaline rippled through her muscles as she heaved hard to fill her lungs with fresh air. The C7A2 was suddenly in her hands.

  Pull the trigger Maggie.

  Pull the trigger Maggie.

  Before she could think there were two gunshots. Jay’s skull seemed to bobble slightly before settling back down into a much smaller, craterous state. You did this, she wanted to look him in the eyes but they weren’t there anymore. You fucking did this! Maggie felt her jaw open to release some primal rage. She wanted to raise the rifle again but movement caught her eye from the side of the room. The rifle seemed to pivot itself toward the new target. The air traffic controller had stood up.

  Pull the trigger Maggie

  Pull the trigger Maggie.

  No…..no…...no. He slowly backed away from her wild green eyes and the fresh, bloody stains on the carpet. His face was shocked with fear. Maggie had seen that look so many times, people staring at the shadows at the windows. Those horrified seconds of time before they crash through the glass or claw at you. He’s looking at you like that. Monster……

  His eyes were fearful like an animal in the presence of a predator. He wasn’t moving. Maggie could almost see him shrinking away, trying to make himself a smaller target. Maggie had a momen
t to look down at her handiwork. His skull was like a crushed ball, devoid of air. Blood was finding its way slowly out of the ears, what was left of the mouth. Yes, you did this. Her eyes wanted to plead forgiveness as she looked back at the shuddering figure beside the console. Please, please…………

  “Please don’t look at me that way.” Maggie heard herself whisper. The rifle settled into a less threatening pose in her hands. After a few more seconds the butt of the C7A2 was resting on the carpet with her right hand entwined around the barrel. With her left hand, Maggie slowly undid the strap around her chin and took off her helmet. She looked over at the air traffic controller who had not moved a muscle.

  “Please.” She pleaded again. “Don’t look at me that way.”

  He didn’t move. His eyes were riveted on her while his mouth was drawn together in a line of fear. He seemed ready to flee at the first sign of attack. Maggie went down on one knee with a slow sigh that seemed to exhale her emotions. Stop it! She commanded. No use, not this time, you’re falling apart and he’s going to see the real you, monster.

  “Look, I’m not in a good place right now.”It felt absurd to try and explain her feelings, “Every day I have been out there and I just want to run and hide when I see them but then I want to smash those MOTHERFUCKERS! All of them!!!”

  “I get angry and I get scared and I feel like something is pulling me apart.” There was moisture on her face. She sniffed and slowly shook her head. Maggie looked up and saw his mouth part slowly. He made no move and uttered no sound. He was unsure of the next moment.

  “I just don’t feel right anymore.” She looked out the window and tried to find an answer as time was running out. They’re coming you know. Yes, maybe it’s time to stop trying, stop fooling yourself. She started talking again: “I am so tired of trying to act right. Someone is gonna see through me.” Maggie didn’t care what she looked like. It just didn’t matter. Maggie turned from the window and met his eyes. “What do I do then?” You’re going to keep fighting, the answer came from within.

  “Look, I am going to try and get you and me out of this.” Maggie stood up and put her helmet back on. A ragged sigh escaped her mouth as she looked up. “But, please, please don’t look at me like a monster.”

  She thought there was a touch of empathy in his eyes. Still, he hadn’t moved. His posture was frozen terrified. He was not sure what to do. More, he was not sure what she was about to do. The sirens were growing silent. It was starting to feel like the end. No, not without one more try. Maggie began to feel herself crawling out of the hiding place inside when anger took over.

  “He got a lot of people killed today.” She glanced at the body, blood and brutality. Her voice was ragged. But Maggie felt the timber coming back. She turned back to him now. He still had not moved. “I know what I did was fucked up. I did it because I’m fucked up.”

  He was watching her very closely, listening to her very closely. There was a touch of understanding hiding in his features. Still, Maggie didn’t dare take a step toward him. He would be gone.

  “I’m going to get us out of here.” She tried to smile as tears dripped off her cheeks. “If you could just believe in me for a little while longer, okay?”

  “Okay.” He whispered.

  *

  Sergeant Rivers and two Corporals stood on the King Road Bridge. One, rifle ready and head on a swivel looking for approaching figures. It felt eerie to be out here like this. The 400 stretched before them both north and south in perfect concrete infinity. The orders had been clear, block off the highway and stay off the 400. Then, guide the planes in. He had three GO Buses and a Coyote AFV underneath the overpass. The only dicey part was the communication. The AFV’s and plane’s radios were not even close to the same frequency. There would be zero voice contact. They would have to guide them by flares.

  “There, Sir.” Corporal Bevin pointed at the brilliant post rainstorm sky as the sun was setting. A small speck to the southwest was growing larger by the minute. It had to be one of them.

  Rivers remembered briefly growing up in Winnipeg in the St. James area. He used to see the planes heading to the airport all the time. The scream of their engines would awaken him at night. But as Winnipeg grew as a city he became accustomed to the air traffic and his attitude changed. It started to feel like a multi-turbine lullaby that sent him off to slumber. While others counted sheep, he counted planes.

  “Okay, do it.” Rivers gave the order and Bevin pulled out the large flare gun. Its huge, circular barrel was almost comical in size. Bevin held it above his head and pulled the trigger. The recoil was a bit more than the average firearm but the discharge was more like a whisper than a report. It was like a manmade comet soaring skywards in the shade of bright red. Its tail was as much of an attention grabber as the fiery projectile. Even if they didn’t see it at first, it was not a problem. The phosphorus laden smoke would hang in the air for several minutes. It was all designed to be impossible to miss.

  The C-32 transport plane began to make slight adjustments in the air. They watched two little sticks appear beneath the wings as the landing gear was deployed. They had a grand stand seat for the landing of Air Force 2. There was a sense of excitement or fear as the engines grew louder. The transport seemed to wiggle back and forth as it tried to decide on landing on the north or south bound lanes.

  “C’mon, pick a lane, asshole.” Caught up in the moment, Rivers missed the smirk on Bevin’s face.

  The C-32 Boeing transport was a variant of the 757. It was a military version of the famous passenger liner. Not an incredibly large plane or fast by any standards. The three soldiers began to feel very small as they watched the aircraft line up for a landing just over their shoulders. So, this is what a target feels like, Rivers thought.

  The shape grew larger, then larger and then impossibly large. The engine whine grew in volume as the flying metal dragon came closer and then filled up the sky. Jesus Christ, Rivers kept thinking. It’s gonna hit the bridge. His hands were instinctively over his ears as the howl of the engine grew louder. He looked back at his two Corporals and found that they had beat him to it. At a distance they looked like three stick figures surrendering to this silver flying beast. As the giant metal bird roared what felt like feet over their heads they threw themselves on the ground.

  The hot exhaust played over them and fouled the air that they inhaled in their lungs. When the doomsday howl of the jet decreased, the first noise he heard was Bevin coughing.

  “This is a crazy assed way to run a war.” Rivers announced. There was a ringing in his ears and Bevin looked up long enough to nod in agreement. The next part of the plan required no orders. The GO Buses were on their way toward a now grounded Air Force 2.

  A second jet came in low over the landing strip with the UN insignia visible just behind the cockpit. It was already being informed that the Highway 89 Bridge was coming up fast. There, more AFV’s, troops and buses borrowed from the town of Cookstown were waiting. The rooms for the UN Secretary General and his staff were secured and prepared at the very comfortable Nottawasaga Inn. The Vice President would stay at the excellent Hockley Valley Resort just 30 minutes away.

  *

  BAM! BAM! The metal fire door visibly moved, pushed back by the force of so many hands trying to break through. They can smell you now. Maggie picked up a chair and heaved it at one of the window panes. It shattered perfectly. Through the opening the sounds of chaos came in from below. The turmoil and thank God, the helicopters sounded much louder.

  “We need to give them a way in.” Maggie explained. She widened the hole by chipping shards of glass away with her rifle butt. Maggie leaned out of the sufficient sized hole and waved to a chopper from above. Its rhythmic rotating blades almost sounded like a heartbeat.

  A lone figure began descending like a house spider from a thread tied to a winch protruding from the chopper. The moment Maggie saw him she beckoned the air traffic controller over to her side. He had been transfixed at t
he door and its chances of holding. Now, it was time for some hope. Maggie extended a hand and a medium sized man filled the shattered window pane.

  “Hey Maggie,” He was almost yelling over the thrum of the helicopters as he stepped inside. “Who’s your friend?”

  “I never did catch your name.” Maggie already had an empty harness in her hands. She tried to ignore the pounding on the door. It was half an inch open. The console’s metal edges were stuck in the carpet, holding its ground for now.

  “Dwayne.” He seemed unsure of what was about to take place.

  “Well, Dwayne.” The harness was on him and secured before he could say another word. “Get ready for the ride of your life.”

  “I’ll be back in a second, Maggie,” The rescuer gave a hopeful smile to Maggie and got a nod in reply. Dwayne was out the window before he could say another word. His feet were like frozen icicles as he was winched into the helicopter.

  BAAAAAAAAM! The console tore through the carpet and flipped on its side. The door flew open and space suddenly became a premium. They seemed to be disoriented as they passed from the darkened stairwell into the light of the almost circular room. It became a slow, laborious dance of untangling limbs. It may have given someone else a chance of escape. But Maggie was more than a dozen stories up with no place to run.

  Their eyes found her in the room, first a few, then many more. Bloody, grey colored lips slashed apart to reveal rotting teeth. They were a pure cross section of humanity. It was a strange thought, but there it was. Maggie watched them with an almost detached curiosity. This is the end, you know. She reminded herself. She watched them slowly size her up. The once beautiful, once professionally dressed. There were children with torn faces whose skin was hanging by shreds from shattered cheekbones. They seemed to stay close to the older ones. Did they do that out of instinct? An elderly man with a chest that had been hollowed out and heart devoured by an army he had now joined took a slow step toward Maggie.

  “C’mon, bring it.” She eyed the old man and the rest of them. An almost delirious calm ended with the anticipation of the storm rising through her. Her muscles became tight and powerful. She snapped the safety off of her C7A2 and screamed: “C’MON! BRING IT!!”