200 Miles to Liberty

by P. A. Glaspy

  The room was quiet. The sound of pills rattling was heard, and all heads turned to it. General Anton Drysdale had emptied a prescription bottle into his hand. He looked down at the pills then up to the faces looking at him.

  “Looks like I’m good for at least a month. Depending on the stress level, who knows after that with my blood pressure,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

  Roman nodded. “The next phase is starvation and disease. Without sanitation, waste won’t be dealt with properly. What food and water we have now can easily become contaminated, and most people don’t know how to safely handle those things when conditions are not necessarily clean. Couple that with not being able to get to a doctor or hospital for treatment — and even if they could, there’s no power there either — and we’ll end up with a dysentery or typhoid epidemic, both of which need strong antibiotics to treat them. It’s going to get ugly, and it’s going to last for a while.”

  “There’s nothing we can do to help or stop the spread of disease?” General Angie Bale asked, voice laced with despair. “I mean, people lived a long time before electricity. Some people still live without it today. If our ancestors made it …” She let the statement hang in the air.

  “The problem is people today — most people anyway — have never lived without it,” Roman replied. “They never knew a time when water didn’t come out of a faucet or when food came from the local farmer, not the local grocery store. Very few know how to hunt or how to grow a vegetable garden; most of them are clueless about things like that. On top of that, winter is just beginning. We’ll have a long few months before crops can go in the ground. How many people will starve to death before spring? For them to learn those things, we need people who know how to do it to teach them.

  “Then there’s logistics. How do we get word to the people with no communications? Everything we do is centered around electricity. If we tried to use word of mouth, how long would it take to reach the people? A hundred and fifty years ago, horses were the mode of transportation and everybody had them. We’re dependent on cars and trucks that no longer run. The last I heard, about seventy percent of the population of this country was overweight and out of shape. They won’t be walking far. I’m completely open to suggestions here, people.”

  The room was quiet. Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts at the enormity of the situation. Finally, General Carl McKenna spoke up.

  “I can’t even begin to fathom how we will feed millions of people nor how we can reach them. What do we have in hardened storage, maybe a hundred trucks? Hell, that’s enough for … what, a couple of hundred miles around D.C.? Maybe if we had some kind of centralized location like Kansas to act as a hub. We transport the supplies there and disperse them.”

  “How do we get the supplies there?” Angie asked. “And what supplies are we talking about? We don’t have any large caches that I’m aware of.”

  “Those bastards at the U.N. are going to send us aid or wish they had later.” Everley had a resolute look on his face. “They can send us some more vehicles and semis to haul the stuff with while they’re at it. If they don’t, things will be a whole lot different when we get back on our feet. And we will get back on our feet.”

  “Charles is right,” Roman added. “The discussion with the Security Council is not over, not by a long shot. We may wait to contact them again until Mr. Tanner arrives. He’s really good at negotiations. Any update on when that will be, Charles?”

  “I talked to Sorley at daybreak. They’re in Maryland. Had a run-in on a bridge with some locals. It didn’t end well for the locals.”

  Everley gave them a short version of the episode. Eyes wide, Angie asked, “Is it that bad already? I thought we’d have at least a week before we saw that kind of thing.”

  “It’s that bad,” Charles said quietly. “That wasn’t the first altercation they’ve had either. One of the guardsmen is already wounded.”

  Roman’s head shot up. “Wounded? What happened?”

  “She’s fine. Took a round, through and through. I’ll let them tell everyone about it when they get here. They should be past Baltimore by now and well on their way down 95. I think they’ll be okay until they start getting close to Washington. I told Sorley to call me when they hit the outskirts. We’ll send an escort to get them the rest of the way safely and without interruption. I expect to hear from him any time now.”

  “Good Lord — shooting at the National Guard? Who does something like that?” Angie’s tone reflected the expressions on the faces of the other chiefs.

  “Desperate people.” Roman’s solemn tone bespoke his feelings on the matter. “It’s started, sooner than I hoped, but not completely unexpected. We will definitely need to muster as many National Guard members as we can find. This is spinning out of control already.”

  Everley looked at General McKenna. “Carl, I think you should take on finding our National Guardsmen. I suggest we offer to pay them in supplies. Any of them with families will probably jump at the chance to get their hands on food.”

  “Yeah, I can do that,” McKenna replied. “And that should be a great incentive for them to report in. Everybody’s going to be looking for ways to feed their families. We just have to figure out how to find them with no way to contact them.”

  “I think I can help with that.” Vanessa Jackson, Olstein’s former chief of staff, came in, followed by David Strain. “President Olstein had us load a database with all active military members onto servers down here. It was updated and backed up daily. I wasn’t sure why he wanted it, but I think it’s exactly what you need to find them.”

  The men stood when she entered the room. She shook hands with Phil Roman and General Everley, who were closest to the door, then took a seat, nodding to each of the chiefs in turn as she greeted them. When she was seated, everyone else sat down again.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Vanessa,” Roman said with a smile. “You know more about what we have to work with than probably anyone else in Washington at the moment. I assume David brought you up to speed on the way?”

  She smiled in return. “Yes, and I must say none of it surprised me. I commend you for taking over before things got too far gone. Just tell me what I can do to help.”

  “Getting us on that database is a great start,” Charles replied. “What if we take the people we have here and start sending them out in small squads to round up the troops? When they get enough for another squad, we send that one a bit further out. They can set up a base of operations at the closest guard post.”

  “But how do we stay in contact?” Angie asked. “We don’t have enough satphones.”

  “There are other lists …” Vanessa paused. “Bulk purchases of food and medical supplies made by people online, gun and ammunition purchases from states where those things are recorded … and people with ham radio licenses.”

  “He was tracking all of that? Why?” Roman asked, incredulously.

  Vanessa shrugged. “He never said why, but my guess is in case something like this actually happened. Even though he blew off the report from the EMP commission publicly, I think deep down he believed it to be a real possibility. I think he was hedging his bets.”

  “That sounds about right,” Everley said gruffly. “But the ham radios won’t work either. They use electricity. They’ll be fried like everything else.”

  “Maybe not,” Anton Drysdale interjected. “If he was tracking the people I think he was tracking, they may have taken precautions against a situation like this.”

  “He was, General.” Vanessa had a knowing look on her face. “He was monitoring preppers.”

  Drysdale nodded. “Then there could definitely be working radios out there. And not just ham radios. There may be two-ways that work as well.”

  Angie looked at him, confusion apparent on her face. “How can that be if everything electronic is toast?”

  “Simple. Faraday cages,” Drysdale replied nonchalantly. “If they shielded the equipment, it
should be good to go.”

  “I’ve heard of those. Do they really work?” Angie asked, intrigued.

  Drysdale grinned. “I guess we’re going to find out.”

  “And the sooner the better,” Roman added. “Vanessa, I hate to put you to work as soon as you walk in the door —”

  Vanessa waved a hand in the air. “I’ve been bored out of my skull since I left. It’s not like Netflix is working.”

  Roman chuckled. “Good. Angie, if you’ll go with Vanessa and get the database loaded, I’d like to start printing off lists of people to find. Start within a thirty-mile radius of D.C. Vanessa, if you can provide us with lists of all the National Guard post locations in the same area, we can check there for personnel and supplies.”

  “Personnel? Do you think there are guardsmen there?” Vanessa asked, cocking her head to the side.

  Everley commented, “There could be. Major Sorley found some in New Jersey. They can’t be the only ones to have holed up in their post.”

  “Great. That would save some time and resources.” Vanessa stood up and headed for the door. “Right this way, General.”

  “Angie, please,” Angie replied. “I think we’re all going to get to know each really well in the coming days and weeks.”

  Vanessa reached for the door handle and turned back to Angie. “Yes, ma’am, I believe you’re right.”

  Chapter 28

  Damon called General Everley when they were about twenty miles outside of D.C. He figured they’d run into their escort just as they reached the bigger residential areas, and he was correct. Just after crossing the Patuxent River they found the two Humvees that would be their escorts at a cross-through on I-95. Roy Dorn had offered to drive, and Damon had taken him up on it so that he could coordinate the meet-up.

  Roy came to a stop in the center lane. Everyone climbed out of all the vehicles to greet the escort and stretch their legs. Damon walked around the front of the Humvee; a slight limp apparent in his gait. Hutch went to him, concern etched on his face.

  “You okay, Damon?”

  Damon nodded as he rubbed the old wound. “Yeah, just stiff. I’m not used to sitting for two days straight.”

  “Hopefully, that’s about to end,” Hutch replied. “I think you’re due for some leave, Major.”

  “If General Everley offers it, I’ll take him up on it,” Damon said with a grin.

  The soldiers from the escort reached them, came to attention and snapped a salute. “Captain Steve Bird, Major. Honored to escort you and your people to the White House. This is Lieutenant Frank Horton,” he indicated the man to his left, “and Master Chief John Lundy.”

  Damon returned the salute and inspected the servicemen’s uniforms. “At ease, gentlemen. I see we’re representing pretty much all the branches, guys. Army, Air Force, Marines and Navy. Good to see you. Any signs of trouble on your way through town?”

  Steve relaxed and addressed Damon. “Yes, Sir, they’ve been scrounging military personnel from all over the city. It kind of feels like the branches are going to merge. As far as the city goes, it isn’t pretty, but no one tried to accost us. The looters have taken pretty much anything of value, especially food, water, blankets, those kinds of things. Military facilities are secure for now.”

  “For now?” Hutch chimed in. “Is that subject to change, Captain?”

  “We’re expecting it to get worse as the hoarded supplies dwindle,” Steve said. “It won’t take the people long to figure out there are other options besides Safeway and Walmart for food.”

  Damon crossed his arms. “I would think a line of armed soldiers would be a deterrent.”

  “Normally it would, but desperate people do desperate things,” Steve replied. “Starving people do crazy things.”

  “Indeed, they do, as we’ve seen already on our trip here.” David Tanner approached the group of military men. They seemed to be standing a bit taller when he reached them. “Our country is in disarray and it’s getting worse by the minute. If you gentlemen are ready, I think we should make our way to our destination. There’s no time to spare.”

  “Right you are, Sir. Steve, one of your vehicles in front of us and one behind, okay? Let’s finish this trip. Lead the way.” Damon reached out to shake Steve’s hand. They shook hands and headed to their respective rides.

  “I’ll take over driving, Roy. You can hang with your men in the camper.” Hutch followed Damon to the Humvee.

  “Works for me,” Roy said as he changed direction and went toward the trailer.

  When everyone was back in their respective vehicles, the convoy headed out. Hutch grinned. “It’s nice to have some more warm bodies. I may be able to let my puckered sphincter relax now.”

  Those inside the Humvee chuckled. Brock looked up at his father and said, “Dad, what’s a sphincter?”

  “It’s a muscle in your … um, behind.” He didn’t elaborate.

  “The one that helps you poop?” the child asked innocently.

  “Yes, son, that one.”

  “Maybe mine will unpucker, too, then. This was a scary trip.”

  The occupants burst out in laughter. The mood of the travelers was definitely lifted having more support.

  Hutch looked up into the rear-view mirror. “Sorry, Sir. I don’t have kids, so I forget we have little ears in here with us.”

  Tanner smiled back at him. “It’s fine, Captain. You could have chosen a much worse phrase.”

  “Roger that, Sir. It was on the tip of my tongue.” Hutch glanced over at Damon. “How far to the White House?”

  Damon was checking the map and measuring. “Looks like about twenty miles if we take the shortest route through town. I’m not sure what route Bird is going to take.”

  Hutch pointed to Damon’s phone. “He’s got a satphone, right? Call him and find out.”

  “I must be tired. It didn’t even dawn on me to use the phone.” Damon reached for his phone and called the Air Force captain. They talked for a few minutes. When Damon shut the phone off, he turned to Hutch. “He said we’re going right down New Hampshire Avenue to Sherman, then Euclid to 16th. That’s how they came out to meet us and they’ve already cleared a path.”

  “Residential or commercial areas?”

  Damon looked at his maps again. “Mixed bag. I’m not too worried about the residential neighborhoods with a convoy of three Humvees though.”

  Tanner leaned forward. “Isn’t Lafayette Square going to be between us and the White House?”

  Damon turned and nodded. “Yes, Sir. They said we’ll be driving around it. They’ve manually dropped the barriers on Madison and have it barricaded until we get there.”

  Tanner sat back, and they rode in relative silence for a while, the only sound coming from the large tires pushing through the deep snow.

  Their trip was uneventful until they exited onto New Hampshire and reached Silver Spring. A large housing complex was on the right and they could see residents out milling about. The sound of the engines of the three military vehicles turned heads, and people were hurrying toward the street. They were shouting something, but between the thick windows and the roar of the tires, those inside the Humvee couldn’t hear what it was.

  “Uh oh.” Hutch was watching the crowd making its way to the road. The hatch of the front Humvee opened, and a head popped up with a rifle. The voice over a loudspeaker could be heard.

  “Stay back! Do not approach the vehicles. We have no supplies for you at this time. If you do not comply, you will be fired upon!”

  The shooter in the hatch brought his weapon to bear. The crowd hesitated. Damon looked into the side-view mirror and saw that the Humvee in the rear had moved over a lane, closer to the right side of the road, and had its own shooter aiming at the restless group of people. The mob stopped, apparently unwilling to test the threat. They were still yelling and flipping off the caravan as it passed.

  As the convoy continued on its way, people from houses on both sides of the street who ha
d obviously heard the vehicles or the loudspeaker, or both, were lining the sides of it shaking their fists and throwing things at the vehicles, holding swaddled babies aloft as if they could somehow elicit sympathy for the children’s plights. Melanie had silent tears running down her face as she watched them go by, helpless to do anything. Her husband reached over and took her hand, gently squeezing it.

  “As soon as we can, we’ll send people out to help,” he told her resolutely.

  “What if it’s too late for those babies?” she asked, heartbreak apparent in her voice.

  “We’ll just have to pray it isn’t,” Tanner replied as he released her hand and patted it before turning back to watch the crowd.

  They were working their way nearer to the city itself, going through residential areas where the speed limit was thirty-five miles per hour. They were moving along at close to fifty.

  “Looks like Bird is trying to fly,” Hutch grumbled, as he struggled to keep the Humvee in the ruts being left by the front vehicle.

  “Funny,” Damon replied. “He probably figures no one will try to accost us at this speed.”

  “I wouldn’t. Oof!” Stephens called out from the back as he was thrown into the side. “Nothing to hang on to back here, Hutch.”

  “Sorry, man. Cowboy up cuz this bronc is a buckin!”

  Careening down the street through abandoned cars which had been pushed aside, as evidenced by the large dents in them, they saw the sign telling them they had entered the District of Columbia. There was a renewed sense of urgency among them. They were getting close.

  The satphone rang. Damon answered it almost immediately. “Sorley.”

  He listened to the caller on the other end for a moment then with a grim nod replied, “Understood. We’re on your six.” He clicked the phone off and turned to Hutch. “We’re coming up on a place where New Hampshire heading south makes a jog. We’re going to cross over into the northbound lanes, so we don’t have to slow down. Just stay behind them.”