“How the hell did he do that?” Her eyes were wide.
“Like I said,” his hand waved about nonchalantly. “He picked up a ton of troops that were separated from their units. Those were pretty chaotic days.”
“Don’t those soldiers know their committing treason?” She was incredulous at the number. Sixty three thousand! Washington was protected by about eighteen-thousand National Guard.
“Well, Molly,” he drawled. “I don’t know if it’s treason, girl.”
“They’ve switched sides.” She thought it was obvious.
“That’s how it is now.” He held up a hand so she would hear him out. “But, you have to think about how it happened.”
“Okay…” She waited for the explanation.
“You’re a grunt separated from your unit. Then, there is a higher rank who gives you an order to come with him,” he explained. “That’s how a lot of these boys got into this. They were just following orders. How the hell were they to know he was gonna go all bat-shit crazy and start a new government?”
“That is a good point,” she agreed. “Do you think he’s crazy?”
“Girl,” It was his turn to explain the obvious. “He has said that he is the reincarnation of his great-great grandfather who fought with Robert E. Lee. There has to be a screw loose rolling around the floor somewhere.”
“That’s new to me.” Her eyebrow arched, “Does he have nuclear weapons?”
“We don’t know.”
“What else do we know?” She asked him to continue.
“I don’t think West Virginia was a fluke.” He leaned to the right in his chair, making a point. “To his east are the Allegany Mountains,” he nodded to her. “It’s a great barrier to keep hostiles out. He has steered clear of the big city in the area of Charleston.”
“So he has a lot of farmland?” These days, farmland was the key.
“You bet, tons of it.” He nodded. His face was a wry smile, “Corn, cattle, potatoes and tobacco. He even has natural gas and petroleum supplies near Harrisville and Burning Springs.”
“Does he have more than enough to feed his people? Molly looked up from her notes.”In other words, can they make a go of this?”
“You bet.” His nod was slow and deliberate. “His capital for now is Huntington. That’s a small port city on the Ohio River. Marshall University is there as well.”
“So,” Molly touched her pen to her lips. “Why don’t we just take this guy out? Bomb him back into the stone age?”
“With what, Molly?” He asked pointedly.
“Um…our army?” She replied with a touch of absurdity.
“Molly.” He slowly got up, walked over to a map and pointed at it. “We have an army of about two million right now. Not including national guard units and irregular militia.”
“Okay.” Those numbers were what she had heard.
“We took a beating for more than a few years of this war,” he observed and she nodded. “But, to assist in our recovery we have to have troops guarding everything.” He started to count them on his fingers. Even they seemed thinner than normal. “Factories, farmland, smaller cities, airports, train stations, harbors. We have to be everywhere.”
“I had heard they might reinstate the draft,” she observed.
“Naw, the last thing we need is a bunch of guys who don’t want to fight, fighting.” He shook his head, “That would just increase our casualty count. Just like in ‘Nam.”
“So what do you do?” She leaned forward.
“We hang on, we recover.” She watched him return to his seat. “We also pray General Beauregard doesn’t decide to march on Washington.”
“Is there a danger of that?” The thought had been in the back of her mind. She wanted to hear his take on it.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head and his right hand massaged his temple. “All I know is I am in an army that is fighting a war that has the most lopsided odds in history. I have armed forces of two million fighting an enemy of over 170 million.”
He looked at her seriously for a moment. “Molly, sometimes I wonder how the hell we’re still here.”
“So do I.” She felt the cold hand on her foot again and shivered. “What concerns you about Beauregard?”
“The man is a potential threat,” he answered straightforwardly. “Now, I will tell you what concerns people in the government and Pentagon about Mr. Beauregard.”
“What?” She leaned forward to listen. The pen was a forgotten toy in her hands.
“Three things,” He held up three fingers to make his point. “One, he clearly is a little odd and perhaps unpredictable.” A finger disappeared into his fist after point one was made, “Two, sixty-three thousand troops under his command.”
“…And the last reason?”
“What he is doing seems to be working.” The last finger disappeared into his fist. “The New Republic has been described as safe, very safe. The GDP numbers are not bad. This man is well on the way to recovery.”
“You want to find out how he’s doing it?” Molly raised an eyebrow.
“Like I said, girl,” He winked with a sly Texas smile. “You hear or see anything we might be interested in, let us know.”
“Just one more thing,” She returned the sly smile.
“What is it?” he said with a comical sigh.
“Maggie…”
“Aw hell, girl,” McCarthy leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna bring that up, are you?”
“Mac, it was wrong what happened to her.” She hated to put this on the general’s plate but it was family.
“Yeah, you’re right. It was.” He met her eyes for a serious moment. “I do have to say I am getting tired of seeing that happen to good people. I’ll look into it.”
Molly drove back to the studio down US-1. It was time for some strategy. Just you, they had said. It was obvious what Beauregard was up to. He would supply the camera and sound crew. He might not be able to control the questions she asked. But he could control the final product when it was his production crew.
“Well.” She pulled into her parking spot. “He wants to play, does he?”
She walked toward the studio. Her heels seemed louder as they struck the pavement on purposeful strides toward the office. A few remedial meetings later, the trap was set.
The parking lot of the Pentagon seemed like the perfect place. She had taken a cab over with a white-haired man who looked like he was a moonlighting mad scientist. Since he spoke mostly Russian, there was little conversation. She paid for her fare at the entrance of the Pentagon and carried with her bags into the Pentagon grounds.
An M-35 heavy truck, a Humvee command vehicle and two Bradleys’ appeared around the corner and headed in her direction. That would be my ride, she thought with a nod of her head. She recollected last night, a last glass of wine while overlooking Washington. It had been a very surreal evening. Molly had passed by the Washington monument and the Capitol building on her drive home. They both seemed so fragile and defenceless in the dark.
So, here you are, she told herself. You’re taking a four-hundred-mile trip from US 50 west to the I79 south. Seven years ago, it might have been a trip her family would take for a week. There would be songs and kids in the back screaming at one another. Games would pass the time and they’d take rest stops along the way. Now, you needed the firepower of two Bradleys, a Humvee and troops in an M-35 with supplies.
The Humvee pulled up and a lanky figure jumped out and removed his aviator glasses as he walked toward her. Underneath his helmet was the evidence of grey hair and a thin, bony facial structure. She knew the type, all business and career military.
“Ma’am,” he began. “I’m Captain Sanderson. I am here to transport you to Elkins.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Molly smiled. They shook hands.
“I’ll have my men get your bags,” he offered.
“I appreciate the offer, Captain.” Molly gathered up her things. �
��But, your men are soldiers, not porters. I can manage.”
“I think you and I are gonna get along just fine, ma’am.” Sanderson gave the hint of a smile.
Molly wanted to stay with her luggage. If anything happened to her precious cargo she would be at the mercy of Beauregard and his production crew. Sanderson had planned to put her in the safest place in the convoy in the interior of one of the Bradleys. She insisted she’d be just fine with the troops in the back of the M-35. Sanderson seemed like the type who didn’t like to deviate from a plan. He finally gave in when Molly pointed out she would be with eight heavily armed soldiers.
“I think they can take care of me.” She nodded toward them.
“Well, all right then,” he lamented and strode toward the truck with Molly, a step behind.
“All right, listen up people.” He addressed the troops in his best command voice. “You are going to be riding with this lady. You will keep in mind at all times that you are representing the United States Army. So, you will keep the swearing and any other bullshit to a minimum. Am I clear?”
“Sir, yes sir!” they replied, straight-faced, as Molly tried hard not to laugh.
“Thank you, Captain.” Molly nodded to him as she tossed her bags on to the covered vehicle and climbed on board.
“Not at all, ma’am,” He put on his aviators and headed back to the Humvee.
A private, a strong looking lady with a hardened Hispanic face and black opals for eyes nodded to Molly to sit beside her. Us girls gotta stick together? Sure honey. She grabbed the offered seat. You’re from around here. I’ll follow your lead. Molly decided.
“So what’s it like being a big star?” A male voice said.
“It’s great except you’re so busy you have no time to enjoy it.” That got a smirk from the girl beside her. Molly looked at the patch on her uniform. “Rodriguez” was her name.
“Hey, thanks for the seat.” Molly finally turned to her.
“No problem, girl.” Her voice was husky.
“So, what do we do now?” Molly looked around.
“The smart ones catch twenty winks,” Rodriguez advised. “Ten miles out of town you’re gonna want to be alert.”
“Gotcha,” Molly didn’t need to be told twice. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the fabric that covered the M-35.
It was forty-five minutes later when she opened her eyes and realized what had pulled her back to the real world. Her bladder pressed against her khaki’s and jacket with a fullness that made her swear others could see it protruding from her side. “When do we stop to use the bathroom?” She whispered to Rodriguez. “You know, stretch our legs?”
“You kiddin’, right missy?” Rodriguez whispered back. “We don’t stop for shit. There’s a bucket over there.” She started to stand up. “I’ll cover you.”
Molly didn’t want to look like the newbie so she followed. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, a bucket? Peeing in front of a bunch of grunts while sister here covers my ass? You’re kidding. They got to the back of the truck and she saw the bucket. They weren’t kidding. Someone snickered and said something while she eased by and Rodriguez answered for her. “Knock it off, asshole.”
The guys started turning away from Molly and the bucket. They were looking off into a space that was at the front of the vehicle. Molly unzipped and rolled her khakis down. The worst part of the bucket experience was the sound it made. Molly could swear the driver could hear it. Damn, this was embarrassing. Thankfully, she found a roll of toilet paper in the corner to wipe everything dry.
She nodded her thanks to Rodriguez and asked, “Do I dump it?”
“Yeah. As soon as you’re done.”
Molly nodded, happy to rid the truck of her embarrassment. She pulled the flap on the back of the truck and poked her head out into the gathering dusk.
They were everywhere, as far as the eye could see and as close as a few meters away. The tiny convoy was snaking around the wreckage of rusting cars, trucks and assorted vehicles. Weaving in and out of the wreckage were the dead. At times, they seemed completely unaware of their presence. At other moments, they were enraged at the sight of the living in their domain. One middle-aged woman in black began to follow the M-35, her legs working as fast as she could and hands scraping the air in hopes of bringing Molly closer. The woman in black tripped over uneven asphalt and fell face-first to the ground. The Bradley behind her drove over the still writhing figure.
Molly’s eyes found the horizon. Figures moved about slowly like lost souls in need of direction. Others stood rooted to the ground unaware of anything around. A young girl standing perfectly still by the side of the road caught Molly’s eye as they passed. Her entire left side was an open wound that had at one point emptied her body of blood and life. Now, a dried black stain marked her yellow summer dress. She seemed oblivious, staring into the sky like she was listening to distant music.
The road had been cleared as much as possible of the abandoned vehicles that littered the area like dying leaves on an autumn day. Most had been pushed to the side, forlorn reminders of days gone by. Others still slowed the advance down US-50. Entwined with other vehicles, they proved too difficult to move. They passed a burned out Escalade that had rammed the rear of a Volkswagen and crushed it. Beside the SUV, the blackened, burned body of a woman in the remains of a business suit regarded the procession with a snarl and a flash of teeth. Inside the Volkswagen, the back seat was twisted steel. Molly swore she saw a car seat with vicious little hands clawing at the air.
“See why we can’t stop?” Rodriguez whispered. “You’ve never seen this before, have you?”
“No, I haven’t,” Molly said in a dreamlike whisper, hypnotized.
“Don’t look at it.” Rodriguez tried to get her to come back inside.
“No.” Molly finally shook her head slowly. Not taking her eyes from the road, dead cars and endless figures. “I have to watch this, it’s my job.”
“Suit yourself.” Rodriguez took one look at the figures walking through eternity and returned to her seat.
It occurred to Molly that they were only moving at about forty miles an hour, a slow and careful speed. Slow enough to see what was ahead and to react. Fast enough to outrun aggressive hostiles. She watched the sun settle under the horizon and hide the dead for another day. The endless plateau of asphalt stretched behind the convoy until shrouded in darkness. She pondered what she had just seen and drew a blank. A loud bump cut through the night. The truck hardly moved from the impact. From underneath the truck a figure came into view, legs kicking in the air, a tire-marked trench where the shoulder and chest should be. For a brief, mad moment Molly thought she saw the head trying to separate itself from the body, slowly writhing to the right and left.
This is the real world, she observed. Molly closed the canvas flap and wondered. Where do we go from here?
The drive was slow and ponderous with nine souls alone with their thoughts. Time passed sluggishly with only yourself as company. Some slept, some pretended to sleep and others stared off into space. The last embers of the day were marked by the occasional bump from the front of the M-35 that signaled contact with a hostile.
“I wonder if they get dazzled by the headlights,” Rodriguez finally asked aloud. “You know, like deer.”
“Who knows,” Molly replied thoughtfully. “I had heard they just attack the lights.”
“Either way, it ends up the same,” a male voice answered.
Rodriguez shrugged. “True dat.”
“We’re coming up on Elkins,” the driver shouted back. There was a slow, deliberate rise in activity as professionals prepared for arrival. Molly peered through an opening to the driver’s cabin and looked out at wide, deserted streets. Streetlights hung like vultures across the open road. Out of nowhere, a sign appeared announcing something called a ramps and rails festival.
“Anybody live here anymore?” Molly asked while watching the road ahead.
“A few,” someone
answered. “It’s a rail link.”
“Then why didn’t we take the train?” Rodriguez wondered aloud.
“Think it only runs about once a week.”
The driver started turning into a huge shopping center parking lot. In a perfect square were parked four identical vehicles to their convoy, an M-35, two Bradleys’ and a Humvee. The Humvee was facing them and clicked its lights twice. “There they are,” the driver said, stating the obvious.
The vehicles rolled closer past tangled and scattered shopping carts, abandoned vehicles and papers that briefly danced in the air before floating like gossamer back to earth. When the engine of the M-35 shut off, Molly was struck by the silence that gave her chills. She had been in Washington for most of the last five years. There was always noise in the background, whether it was a radio, television or any of the other standards in a city. Here, there was only silence. It invaded her senses and made her suddenly very aware and very afraid.
Molly suddenly understood what “It’s too quiet“ meant in all those shows.
“We’re gonna wanna do this fast.” Rodriguez grabbed one of her bags. She was all business. Okay, another reason to be aware.
“Launching the sparrow,” a voice from the M-35’s radio squawked.
It came briefly into view, a large toy helicopter that had at least one camera and two wires trailing behind. It would fly up to a low altitude and give the unit a complete view of their surroundings, a tiny reconnaissance platform that was a hundred feet in the air slowly spinning. Another set of eyes in the darkness.
Sanderson got out of his Humvee to meet the West Virginian officer. Beauregard’s troops were identical in dress to US army regulars save a state flag patch on their shoulders. The West Virginia officer saluted and introduced himself. Sanderson did not return the salute.
Oh, for Christ’s sake, Molly thought. Can’t we play nice just this once? The Virginian officer did not show his annoyance but Molly could feel it even from her location. After a brief conversation, Sanderson turned and waved Molly forward.
5 Years After Page 19