by J. P. Castle
The Lieutenant Colonel saluted and left Major General Given to return to his thoughts.
There are probably a few fine citizens in those prison personnel, but it can’t be risked. Half of the guards and wardens are as crooked as the prisoners inside. If they were allowed to leave, they’d meet their demise in a vaccination line anyway. No, can’t risk someone growing a conscious this early into the operation and spilling their guts on national television.
LATER IN THE afternoon, Amir joined Bastian, who stood by the campfire beside Ledger. “I received an email back from Trent. He played it cool. Told me all is fair and come to visit whenever I could.
“I bounced the signal out of an apartment in Arkansas so my location wouldn’t get tracked. My research on Girard didn’t pull anything useful except some video footage of him with the President at an award ceremony. Here’s a picture of him and his wife. She’s clearly pregnant in this photo, which is at least a year ‘n a half old,” said Amir.
Bastian studied the image. So, he has at least one child. “You did an excellent job, Amir. Thanks.”
“If I find anything else, I’ll call,” said Amir, returning to join Youlie.
Bastian turned his attention to Ledger. “Hey, I need you to come with us tonight to pick up another SUV. We’re gonna take two vehicles to New Hampshire. I had that Jay Slim guy round us up another ride.”
“Sure, no problem,” said Ledger. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about the other day. I want to apologize for my actions and jumping to conclusions without taking the time to listen, and letting you explain yourself.”
“No need to apologize. I never should’ve allowed that lie to go on for that long. My parents swore me to secrecy, and that wasn’t right. You and Caleb are my best friends. It wasn’t fair to you or me. I am thankful that the truth is out now.”
“I wondered why you still wanted me around after I hated you so much, now I understand. The news you told me at the farmer’s house floored me, in a way, and in another way, it sounds exactly like something my dad would do. There was front end damage to his truck after that night, I remember that. I knew he’d hit something while he was drunk, just never put that together. At any rate, I’m glad you didn’t betray me with Mary Beth.”
“I’d never betray our friendship. Now, at least, we can hopefully put that piece of the past behind us.”
Troian approached, “I haven’t heard back from my brother yet about Girard’s address. But he did say there are rumors on the base of a top-secret mission linked to Breckenridge. When people on the base asked questions, the officers rapidly told them to shut it down. And, Jay Slim called, he said, ‘Get over here ‘n eat, the chicken is fried.’”
“Okay, let me know when you hear from Tony again. Are you ready to go to Jay Slim’s?” said Bastian.
“Yes,” said Troian.
Bastian went to say goodbye to Rani, but she’d decided to go, too. They all loaded up for another adventure to Jay Slims. Bastian felt better, having Ledger ride along for backup, especially after the carjacking incident. No one said much along the way, except Rani, of course.
“Wow, what a dump this section of town is. Glad we don’t live here,” she said.
“Not everyone is born into privilege like us, Rani,” said Troian, “but I do agree the area could definitely use some work.”
“You don’t have to be born into privilege to have the decency to at least pick up the trash out of your yard,” said Rani. “That’s free.”
Bastian pulled up to the front of Jay Slim’s house. “We’ll be right back,” he said.
He and Troian went inside to collect the new identities.
“Those two seem a little chummy lately,” said Rani.
Ledger didn’t comment.
“What about Bastian putting her name down as a parent instead of mine? Isn’t that weird?” she said.
“Honestly, I believe he did what he knew needed to be done. I don’t really think it meant anything more than that,” said Ledger. Not yet, anyway.
Inside, Bastian and Troian combed over each I.D. impressed by the quality of Jay Slim’s work.
“Jay Slim did an outstanding job,” said Jay Slim, “even on the boy with the busted-up face.”
“Yes, you did. Thank you so much,” said Troian, nodding for Bastian to hand him over the money.
“The navy SUV out front is fifteen grand extra, runs clean, good tires, not too flashy. Paperwork’s in the dash, quiet ‘n smooth . . . like Jay Slim,” he said.
Bastian paid Jay Slim the extra, retrieved the keys, and departed without delay. At the front door, Troian turned back to Jay Slim.
“Jay Slim, don’t believe anything you hear about us on the news. And if anyone comes to town with a vaccine, don’t get it, if you want to live. Hide, keep your mouth shut and hide until the vaccinators leave. You’ll die if you let them give you the shot.”
“No shots for Jay Slim. Got it. Stay safe out there, and thanks for the info,” he said.
On their way back to the vehicles, Bastian said, “You did the right thing. He did right by us.”
“I agree, never know, we might need him in the future for some of his unique services,” said Troian.
Bastian threw Ledger the new set of keys. Troian rode with Ledger. The four made it back to camp without any fanfare and prepared to leave for New Hampshire.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Second Wave
THE NEXT MORNING everyone said their goodbyes.
“Bastian, if you have to search the Internet for anything at all, call me ‘n let me do it from here. Otherwise, they’ll be on your location quick depending upon your search,” said Amir.
“Will do. While I’m gone, I want you to have a decal printed for the side of that van that says ‘Crossroads Ministries’ or something that indicates it’s a church van. Send Mateo or Joaquin to pick it up,” said Bastian.
“That’s a clever idea. I’ll get that done today,” said Amir.
Bastian threw his bag in the back of the SUV, then turned to his sister, who came out to see them off. “I will be back, Bryce, don’t worry. Take care of . . . well, speak of the devil,” Bastian grinned, turning his head toward the R.V. Caleb stood in the door wearing sweatpants and no shirt. “You’d better get that bruised body back into bed, man.”
“I’m sick of that bed already. I’d rather be on my way with you, wherever you’re headed off to, but I can’t yet,” said Caleb.
“No, you need more time to heal. I want to thank you for what you did. You saved my sister’s life and the others from that psycho. You’re in a lot of pain ‘n I’m truly sorry for that. I never should’ve left you alone with that responsibility. I underestimated that dude. It’s like he tried to help us one day, then went nuts the next.”
“I’d do it all again, but I would’ve shot him a lot sooner before all hell broke loose,” he laughed, abruptly stopping to clutch ahold of his rib cage. “I’ll talk to you when you get back,” said Caleb, turning to go lay back down.
Troian and Bastian went over to Youlie and said goodbye to baby Ezra. Rani rolled her eyes as she got into the SUV. She’d had enough goo-goo ga-ga already today—for the whole rest of the year even.
The four left in two SUVs. Bastian wanted to be sure they didn’t get caught up in the same vehicle if they encountered trouble. Also, since he didn’t know these vehicle’s history at all, it made him more comfortable to have a spare in case one broke down.
The day drug on. Troian caught up on some much-needed sleep while Ledger drove. Bastian and Rani smoothed out the differences plaguing them over the past few days.
“I’m sorry I’ve been unpleasant,” said Rani. “This whole past week has overwhelmed me. It’s one major event after another, no time to think. One minute I had my pom-poms packed ‘n the next, I’m left alone to fend for Ollie ‘n myself.”
“I appreciate you saying that,” said Bastian, “but I’m not sure it’s gonna slow down anytime soon, that�
�s my fear. If they catch us, we’re all dead, it’s that simple. Me, Ledger, ‘n Caleb have seen them in action—they’re stone-cold killers. I’m doing my best to get us to safety, even though I have no idea where safety exists yet, or if it exists at all.”
“I get it, you’re under a lot of pressure,” said Rani, reaching over to hold his hand.
The time alone, which is what she’d craved, helped clear the air. Rani never shared anything willingly in her life. In her eyes, all Bastian had done lately . . . is stuff for everyone else. Rani needed some of what constituted her favorite activity—me time.
Partway into Rani’s bliss, Bastian’s wrist-unit went off. “What’s up, Amir?” he said.
“Get to a T.V. and watch the news,” he said, then hung up.
Worry quickly invaded Bastian’s mind. He also needed food and rest. They’d managed to pass through every ticket station and toll, without trouble. They’d made it all the way through Cleveland, Buffalo, Rochester, then Syracuse, New York.
By this time, after eleven hours of driving, Bastian needed to find a hotel. A pay by the hour kind of hotel, which didn’t require any cards or I.D.s. He pulled into the first one flashing a vacancy sign. The gutters barely clung to the roof’s edges, shingles lay scattered around the parking lot, and the windows offered a thickly layered view of grime from years of neglect. The rooms smelled of stale cigarettes. Bastian paid for two.
“Have you ever seen anything so, trashy?” said Troian.
“No, but I’m so tired I don’t even care,” said Ledger. “Do you want some quarters to make the bed bounce,” he laughed.
“Oh my gosh, will you shut up. I’m gonna shower,” she said, heading into the bathroom.
Ledger darted across the street and bought them all sandwiches, fries, and drinks. He returned to Bastian’s door. “Big B, it’s me, open up,” he said, waiting.
“Thanks, man. I’m so hungry I could eat Rani’s leather bag. Amir text, he said to turn on the news.”
Ledger returned to his room and flipped on the T.V. Troian plopped down beside him on the bed to eat. Sirens roared across the town. Choppers hovered overhead. This didn’t readily alarm them since it’s common to hear these noises in a big city. The news anchor, already in progress, continued to share her message.
“A sky-bus accident has slowed traffic down on I-81. Drone police are currently in assist to clear the wreckage. If possible, avoid I-81 for the next several hours.
“Today Scientists confirmed the mysterious deaths of the cattle herds in southern Texas. They are now labeling the illness as ‘acetone cancer.’ Scientists claim the new type of cancer developed in the cattle herds from drinking contaminated water. The water became poisoned from fracking solution, used in the area decades ago. They claim the possibility exists that this may harm humans who consume the meat. All Housmettia meats are being pulled from shelves across the nation. This presently adds to the current meat shortages in America.
“Photos received today from the Mars colony show the vast underground food production network they have set up. Over five hundred people now live and work on the red planet. Seems they’re having an enjoyable time there. Back to—hang on,” said the anchor, pressing her earpiece next to her head.
“We’ve just received breaking news out of Anaconda, Montana. Red Fang has reared its ugly head for the second time. Authorities are on the scene right now, vaccinating as many of the town’s 12,000 patrons as possible.
“It’s our understanding that this deadly virus kills within twenty-four hours after contact. All roads in and out of the small town are now closed. I’ve been informed that the President will address the nation tomorrow after further information is gathered.
“We’d hoped this virus had ended in Breckenridge, Colorado, about a week ago. Seems it may have jumped the fence. The good news is a vaccination exists. We’ll keep you informed of any updates. I’m Lee Shultz, and I’ll be back for the eleven o’clock news.”
LEDGER AND TROIAN stepped over to Bastian’s door, inside, Bastian sat on the edge of the bed. Rani cozied up behind him, making a good show of her back-rubbing skills. She kept one good eye on Troian.
“There it is, Bash,” said Rani, “let all of that stress go right into my hands.”
I think I’ll go vomit now, thought Troian.
“They’ve hit another town, the same scenario played out. Why would they—fear? It has to be fear,” said Bastian.
“Stir up enough fear so people will line up for the vaccine,” said Troian.
“Yeah, now they’ve shown people other states are vulnerable, too. That had to be what Amir wanted us to watch. Okay, we sleep for seven hours, then we’re outta here. All hell is about to break loose around the nation,” said Bastian.
Ledger and Troian went back to their room.
Her wrist-unit vibrated. “Hello,” she said.
“It’s me, I only gotta second. Girard’s house is in Florence, South Carolina. The neighborhood is called Wren Creek, like the bird, Wren Creek. It’s off Rosewood Drive, find the name on the wired gate entrance.
“I love you, sis. I hope we get to see each other again, not sure how, but I will find you. This secret operation is about to go full scale, and it’s gonna get ugly, real ugly. You all need to hide,” he said, hanging up the phone before she could even render a response.
Troian scribbled down the information. “My brother, Tony, gave me Girard’s home address. He says we need to hide.”
“Okay, we’ll update Bastian tomorrow, nothing we can do with that today,” said Ledger.
They both laid down to get some shut-eye.
Seven hours passed by in a blink. Bastian felt like he’d just fallen asleep when the alarm started buzzing. He rolled over and put his arm around Rani, “I really want to lay here all day, eat chips ‘n cheese, ‘n watch movies with you . . .”
“Yeah, me too,” she said.
They readied themselves for the last stint of the drive; the GPS said five hours to Professor Ander’s house in Hooksett, New Hampshire. Troian and Ledger loaded up after she updated Bastian on the Intel she’d received from her brother Tony, which pleased Bastian.
“Okay, we’ll be there in a few hours,” he said. “Let’s do this.”
PRESIDENTIAL ADDRESS
MULTIPLE MILITARY TEAMS deployed across the United States to prisons holding the largest, most violent populations. Los Angeles County Prison, in California, held over 30,000 prisoners all by itself. Rikers Island in New York had the second-largest prison community, with over 19,000. The prison guards allowed the military units inside without question.
In each case, all the corrections officers, staff members, and warden voluntarily entered the cafeteria as ordered. They each willingly received an injection, which put them into a drunken state after three minutes. This allowed time to move them from the cafeteria to the yard without argument or question.
Most sashayed into the yard laughing hysterically along the way at staggering colleagues. The injection rendered them unconscious at ten minutes. From that time, respirations ceased within five minutes. The military team had to execute the delivery of the initial shot quickly. In larger prisons, multiple teams set up for process efficiency.
“Red Unit check, quadrants one and two neutralized,” reported Captain Nelson.
“Blue Unit check, quadrants three and four neutralized,” reported Captain Drisco.
Troops loaded the deceased staff into dump trucks they’d parked outside of the prison yard. On confirming all prison personnel had deceased, the Captain’s prepared to activate the prisoner’s neurotransmitters.
“Hey, what are you all doing in here,” said Little John. He’d served fifteen years of a life sentence for murdering his neighbor. Little John thought his neighbor had stolen his tools from the back of his car. Turns out, his worthless nephew had done it. Regardless, Little John went in to do hard time after he clubbed his neighbor to death with a baseball bat. “What’s going on. I demand ans
wers.”
“It’s a bunch of soldiers. Where’re the guards. Hey! Did someone escape? What’s cookin’ up in here, man,” hollered Big Steve. He’d been on the inside for seventeen years, also a lifer. He’d tied up his ex-wife, along with her new lover, and ran them over repeatedly in the driveway of their old house. Big Steve and Little John had bunked together in cell 164 for the last ten years. Steve held a mirror outside of the cell. “No guards on the floor.”
“Something’s up, man,” said Little John.
The loudspeaker echoed across the prison.
“In a few moments, you will single file yourselves like you do every day to the yard. Our group received Intel that two kilos of heroin has found its way inside of this prison. We have been sent here to find it. Enjoy your extra time in the yard today, gentlemen, because there might not be any tomorrow,” said the Captain.
He muted the loudspeaker, then sent a new message to his team over the radio. “All teams in position. Initiating the cell doors now. Once each quadrant is completely in the yard, report.”
“Extra yard time today,” said Big Steve. “I’m gonna go find the new punk that called me a fat slob yesterday.”
All of the cell doors slid open; the prisoners single filed it to the yard as commanded.
Each Captain reported back the same message. “All prisoners secured to the yard in quadrants one through four.”
“There’s that punk,” said Big Steve, proceeding to seize hold of a young man that arrived the day before. Big Steve reared back his fist to strike the boy, but quickly released his grip to place both hands on the sides of his head.
The neurotransmitters had released poison into every prisoner in the yard.
Little John joined Big Steve on the ground. The sight unfolded in a gruesome manner as the neurotoxin’s venom disabled its victims. Prisoners shouted out in pain, until the paralytic kicked in, which prevented further noise or movement while their bodies suffocated to death. The prisoner’s fates justifiably played out more violently than the staff . . . who’d received massive doses of barbiturates.