After the Roads- Sidney’s Way

by Brian Parker

  “Good morning, sir,” Captain Massey replied as Jake spread his legs shoulder-width apart and clasped his hands behind his back.

  “Your theory isn’t as hair-brained or potentially as disastrous as what happened on that wall last night, Lieutenant Murphy. Hell, I actually think that something like that might work—if you bothered to communicate to anyone else what you were doing.”

  Jake pressed his hands into the small of his back, attempting to absorb the sweat there with his uniform. “I accept full responsibility—”

  “Can it,” the colonel barked. “I don’t want to hear about that bullshit—because you’re one hundred percent guilty. I just want to know why you didn’t talk to your commander, or hell, even the platoons to your left and right on that wall. They’re the ones that suffered because of this.”

  Jake frowned. He’d failed his brothers and sisters and people had died because of it. There was no way to sugarcoat the facts. His men had held their fire, allowing the infected to come all the way up to the wall, a lot of them. Then, predictably, they’d turned and continued along the wall, moving toward the units on either side of Able’s First Platoon because the other units on the wall were still firing and creating a massive amount of noise. The soldiers in those other units had been focused on the infected out front and never saw the ones piling up from the side until it was too late.

  Fourteen soldiers had died before the men and women stationed along the wall were able to close the gap that had opened in the line and burn away the seething mass of infected bodies.

  “Sir,” Jake said. “I incorrectly assumed that the infected in my sector were wandering back out into the city when we stopped firing and turned off the lights. They just went toward the sound of the gunfire on our left and right.”

  “Goddamned right they went left and right,” Colonel Albrecht stated. “Because you didn’t communicate with anyone what you were planning to do. Like I said earlier, Lieutenant, I don’t necessarily think your idea is a bad one. If we could get some breathing room, we might be able to have some other options. Dammit, if you would have simply talked to someone else, or picked up the radio and called your battalion so they could have warned the other platoons on the wall that they needed to watch their flanks, this might not have happened. It sure as hell wouldn’t have gone down like it did.”

  Jake nodded his head, but didn’t say anything.

  “I have fourteen dead troopers because of your actions, Lieutenant Murphy’s,” the colonel continued, staring hard at Jake. “You’re the best platoon leader I have in my brigade, which is why you were chosen to run that proof of concept emergency resupply operation last month. But I can’t let last night’s leadership failure go unpunished.” He paused and then asked, “What’s your recommendation, Captain Massey?”

  Jake’s ears perked up. He knew there’d be some type of punishment, but he couldn’t imagine what it could be. The Army thrived on good order and discipline—part of that was making people feel it in their pocketbook or by restricting them to base, neither of which applied anymore since the soldiers weren’t being paid and there was nowhere to go.

  “Sir, I recommend confinement for a week.”

  The colonel glanced sidelong at Todd Massey and crossed his arms over his chest. “Confinement? Where the fuck are we going to confine him? All of us are already confined.”

  Massey nodded as the colonel tapped his chin with a finger. “I could shoot you. General Bhagat would support my decision.” Jake blanched. The older man’s affable demeanor belied what was truly going on in his head. “Your actions directly resulted in the deaths of American soldiers—of human survivors.”

  “Sir, if I may?” Jake recognized the brigade sergeant major’s voice coming from beside him, but he didn’t dare to look away from the colonel.

  “Go ahead, Sergeant Major.”

  “Sir, I agree with you that the lieutenant’s actions were irresponsible, poorly coordinated, and potentially disastrous for the entire base if those infected would have gotten past the soldiers on that wall. He fucked up—big time. But maybe he doesn’t truly understand what we’re doing here, who we’re protecting—hell, I’m not sure if any of us do.”

  The sergeant major stepped closer to the colonel and into Jake’s peripheral vision. He was a tall, thin black man with graying hair. “You know I grew up in a tiny little Mississippi town, sir. We didn’t have jack shit in our town, everyone was poor as dirt and times were hard. Every two years, political candidates would roll through the county seat a few towns over and tell everyone that they were going to make things better, that they understood our problems. Well, I tell you what, things never got better because those politicians didn’t truly understand what we were going through, so they couldn’t fix it.”

  “Okay. So what’s your recommendation?” Colonel Albrecht asked.

  “The lieutenant, and all of us soldiers over here getting hot food, sleeping in beds with mattresses and air conditioning—we’re like those politicians. We think we know what’s best for all of those refugees over there, but we don’t know shit about what’s happening inside the camps. We keep them pinned up, escort aid workers and food trucks, but we don’t know how they feel, what their fears are, or understand their hopes that their families will be safe. I think the lieutenant should be confined in the refugee camp. It’ll give him an opportunity to learn to truly empathize with the refugees, teach him what he’s fighting for, and most importantly, what we stand to lose if he goes off on some half-assed, hair-brained operation without telling anyone about it.”

  The colonel grimaced. “That’s good advice, Sergeant Major. It’s a direction that I hadn’t even considered going.” He stood and walked around the office for a moment, appearing to be deep in thought, and then he finally turned back. “Alright. I like it. Have legal draw up the paperwork. I want to sign it by the end of the day. Lieutenant Murphy, at 0800 tomorrow morning, you’ll be escorted, in civilian clothes, to the refugee camp in the Ready First sector. You’ll be confined within the camp, living amongst the refugee population for four weeks as punishment for your inability to effectively communicate your plan, which ultimately ended up getting fourteen soldiers killed.”

  The older man sat on the edge of the desk and re-folded his arms. “Any questions, Lieutenant Murphy?”

  Jake’s mind churned as he tried to think of what he should ask. Four weeks seemed like an incredibly long time. Tell that to those men who died, he chided himself. They’d love to have those weeks back.

  “No, sir. I don’t have any questions,” he replied, feeling terrible for what happened.

  “Good. And smart,” Colonel Albrecht said. “If you’d have argued, I would have made it longer. Now get out of here and go pack your things.”

  Jake snapped to the position of attention and saluted. Colonel Albrecht stared hard at him for a moment and then returned the salute as if he were annoyed. Jake spun on his heel and made his way out of the room quickly.

  Once he was in the orderly room, he maneuvered around the cots set up for the overnight radio watch guys and stepped outside. He stumbled a little as he descended the steps down to the sidewalk below.

  He’d walked for forty feet before he realized that his room was in the building he’d just left. “Fuck it,” he grumbled and continued along the sidewalk until he was in the shadow of the adjacent building. There was a vacant picnic table there, so he sat and rested his head in his hands.

  “What the fuck?” he moaned. “What the fuck did I do?”

  His orders had gotten those men killed. He could have simply had his men carry on as always, killing the ever-present infected, and then they would still be alive. It was his fault for not getting permission from Captain Massey to go ahead with the idea. Massey would have run it up the flag pole and there could have been a coordinated effort to try it one evening.

  He felt the presence of someone standing in front of him before he noticed the shadow on the ground. “Everything okay, L
ieutenant?”

  He used his palms to scrub at the corners of his eyes. When he looked up, he was surprised to see Sidney, the woman who’d planted the seed about the cease fire in his mind. For a brief moment, he wanted to blame her for what happened. If she hadn’t said anything, then he wouldn’t have decided to try to not defend the wall. It was her fault, wasn’t it?

  No. It’s not her fault, he thought. The fault lies with me. I didn’t do things the right way. I wanted to be the hero that figured out how to stop the attacks, so I didn’t let anyone know what we were doing. It’s not that woman’s fault. Accept your punishment and move on.

  “Uh… Yeah. I’m good,” he lied.

  “Mind if I sit?”

  He sat up and placed his back against the table, gesturing toward the seat. She sat down beside him, legs facing outward as his were. “I heard about last night.”

  He grunted. “How the hell did you hear about it?”

  She pointed at the opposite building, painted desert tan like all of the others surrounding it. “I live right there with a squad leader from Third Platoon and one of your squad leaders. Something like this isn’t going to stay quiet.”

  He sighed. “Yeah. I guess not.”

  “It didn’t quite go like I thought it would,” she stated. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Jake countered. “You’re a civilian and you had an idea. I’m the officer. I acted on your idea. But the reason it didn’t work is because I failed to tell the adjacent units what I was doing, so they didn’t stop firing their weapons, and that brought the infected to them.” He cursed and spat into the dirt. “If I’d told them what we were doing, they could have either watched their sides where they thought we were protecting them, or they would have given the theory a shot as well. The blame lies with me, not with you.”

  She was quiet, so he looked over at her. She leaned back against the table as well, her fingers absently trailing along her protruding stomach. “Are you okay?” he finally asked.

  “Mmm hmm,” she said. “Just thinking.” She stopped rubbing her belly and looked at him. “So are they going to punish you or something? That’s the rumor going around the fourth floor.”

  “Hmpf, figures,” Jake grunted. “Yeah, I’m getting a punishment. Since we aren’t being paid, and we’re already confined to base, the traditional Army punishments won’t work. So, the commander sentenced me to a month in the refugee camp. Isn’t that fucked up?”

  Her nostrils flared. “You mean fucked up that you have to go down there or fucked up that he views that as a punishment?”

  “The latter,” Jake stated, sensing her anger.

  She seemed to relax slightly. “Look, Lieutenant, I—”

  “You can call me Jake. Hell, for the next four weeks, I’m not even going to be a lieutenant, just another refugee,” he added bitterly.

  Sidney nodded. “Jake. I like that. Much more approachable than Lieutenant Murphy.” She paused and then continued rubbing her stomach. “What I was going to say is that it’s not going to be that bad for you down in the camps. At least you know that it’s only temporary and you have a way out. Everyone else down there? Not so much.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “But do I have a way out? Do we have a way out? I’m starting to think this whole thing is just delaying the inevitable.”

  Sidney’s lips thinned. “I’ve thought the same thing—a lot, actually. I’m not normally a defeatist, but there are too many people in here. Too many infected out there.”

  Jake sighed. “You’re right. There was an incredible amount of food brought here over the weeks leading up to when we closed everything down, plus everything the FEMA camps had around the city. But even all of that isn’t enough; we’re running out. There were never supposed to be four million people behind those walls. Planners thought there would be one million inside and the rest would be in the camps outside the walls for a couple of months at most. We were supposed to have the threat taken care of by now.”

  “There’s probably three hundred million people infected in this country alone, Jake. And the virus seems to make the infected seek out new hosts. That means we’re the only game in town. And that means they’re not going to stop coming.”

  He turned to stare at her. “So what are you saying?”

  “Sooner or later this place is going to fall—whether it’s from the infected getting in, someone getting bitten while they’re on duty on the wall and turning once they’re inside the base, or more likely, we’ll run out of food and those four million people will destroy everything.”

  “What can we do about it?” he asked, his alarm growing because she voiced some of the same concerns that he had.

  “Nothing. Fort Bliss is a sinking ship. Once this baby is born and given a clean bill of health, I’m leaving.”

  He blanched. “You can’t. You haven’t been out there since—”

  “I’ll be fine. I was out there for months before coming here and I almost didn’t come inside the walls.” She held up her hands. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the protection that I’ve gotten and the food that I’ve been given, but… You’ll see when you go down to a camp. This place is a powder keg and it’s ready to explode.”

  Sidney pushed herself up in that odd, characteristically pregnant way, rolling sideways onto one hip and then arching her back to lift her butt off the bench. “I’m gonna go inside and try to get a little bit of sleep before the shift change and all the soldiers come into the barracks,” she said.

  “Alright, see ya later,” he replied. She waved and began to walk toward the barracks.

  “Hey!” Jake called after her.

  She turned. “Yeah?”

  “Any advice for the camps? I mean, like any idea what I should do to fit in?”

  “Yeah. Don’t tell anyone that you’re a soldier and don’t tell them that you’re there as punishment for a few weeks. That will make this whole place implode.”

  She turned back and continued toward her room.

  “Hmpf,” he grunted. To be honest, he hadn’t thought about it from the refugees’ perspective. He was planning on being honest when anyone asked, now he was reconsidering. That little riot last month wouldn’t even compare to what would happen if all the refugees rose up at the same time over the perception of inequity between them and the soldiers.

  He’d have to be careful not to start another massive uprising, which was a lot for Colonel Albrecht to put on his shoulders. He was only a lieutenant and hadn’t been given any warnings about the consequences… The realization hit him hard.

  “Holy fuck,” Jake muttered, remembering the day he was in the division commander’s office with Colonel Albrecht after the Sam’s Club run. The general said the death of twenty thousand refugees was a godsend. He’d spoken in such a cold, detached manner that Jake had wondered if he’d thought of the refugees as people at all. Was there a plan in place all along to send someone to the camps as punishment to get the refugees riled up? If the Army were to put down a major riot, thousands upon thousands of people could be killed—which meant fewer mouths to feed. Am I being paranoid or is that why he’s sending me to the camps?

  There was no way he’d know for certain if the colonel and the division commander had devised an elaborate plan to kill off a lot of the civilians without getting the blame, but it made sense in a sick and twisted way. Less people to feed meant that humanity could survive longer, maybe long enough to kill off the infected as winter set in and millions of them died from exposure.

  “Son of a bitch,” he grumbled. “I hate being a pawn.”

  14

  * * *

  ABLE COMPANY HEADQUARTERS, FORT BLISS, TEXAS

  OCTOBER 10TH

  “You have everything you need in that bag?” Captain Massey asked Jake skeptically as he examined the medium-sized, black backpack that he wore.

  “The government will provide everything I don’t have,” Jake replied.

  “What do you mean
?”

  “If I’m going to be treated like a refugee, then I’m going to act the part, sir.”

  “Is this a game to you, Lieutenant?”

  “No, sir. I have my 9-millimeter, a knife, a blanket, a few changes of clothes, my hygiene kit, an extra pair of tennis shoes, and a few cans of food. That’s all that a new refugee coming onto Fort Bliss would have—maybe a little more, but I don’t want people thinking I’m a soldier and that we punish soldiers by forcing them to live in the same conditions that the refugees live in.”

  The commander glanced at the orderly room NCO and the company’s other three lieutenants, who were here to see Jake off. Joe and Brian were his roommates, so it wasn’t a surprise that they were here, but Grady making his way from his quarters was a nice gesture. “Sergeant, can you give us a moment?” Massey asked the NCO.

  “Yes, sir.” The soldier slipped out the front door and stood on the concrete stoop outside.

  Once the door was shut, Captain Massey turned back to Jake. “What’s going on, Jake? Don’t make a fucking scene. Just do your time and come back to your platoon.”

  “I’m not making a scene, sir. But I do feel like I’m being used as bait.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? You received an extremely lenient punishment for getting fourteen men killed because of your stupidity.”

  “Just let it go, man” the company executive officer said. Jake had told Joe and Brian about his belief that the division commander was trying to reduce the refugee population and both of them thought he was crazy.

  Jake shook his head. “No. I’ve given this a lot of thought. It’s the only thing that makes any goddamned sense.”

  “Which is?” the captain asked.

  “Sir, I think the division and base leadership want the number of refugees reduced. It’s simply not sustainable from a logistics perspective.”