“This isn’t the Vatican, Colonel. We’re running the United States Army here, not a country.”
“Yes Sir, but you can see the value in creating a sense of self-worth again? Giving them the feeling that they’re earning something tangible.”
“Okay, I can play along with this idea. What else?”
“The next agenda, we’ve all been talking about it, Sir, and we feel that economics probably isn’t enough. The soldiers need contact.”
“Contact?” The General’s eyebrows arched.
“Yes, with the opposite sex.”
The General took a deep breath and frowned. “Have I really sat down to a meeting during a national crisis, the likes of which we’ve never seen before, to hear that our forces are getting emotionally desperate?”
“Please just hear me out, Sir.”
“This had better go somewhere fast, or this meeting’s over.”
Colonel Lackland shuffled some papers and nodded quickly. “Yes Sir, here’s what we have. As you know, our population, along with the entire planet’s, is devastated. If we’re ever going to get things returned to normal, we need to reestablish civilization, and it needs more people. We have secured a wide variety of stock from sperm banks and other storage facilities. And we will implement those when we can, but, in the meantime, we might think about initiating breeding programs amongst our soldiers. The most viable stock we have at the moment is right in front of us, surviving in our own ranks. We feel that they should not fraternize within their own units of course, might create a conflict of interests. But we can mix and match from different squads, platoons, and what have you. Maybe some of them can start new families, make a new life, and help provide the population our country needs.”
“And where will they do this? Are we going to put brothels inside military bases?”
“We were actually thinking they could just pitch a tent for the time being, Sir.”
“You’re serious?”
“We’ll make it more comfortable as soon as we can.”
The General leaned back and rubbed his forehead, then splayed out his hands and balled them into fists a couple times. He looked up at the ceiling then leveled his gaze back down on Lackland. “So we just pick a man and a woman and toss them in a tent?”
“Essentially, yes, they’re will be more to it than that, but, yes, that’s the plan, Sir.”
“Okay, then the women give birth, and who raises the children?”
“We’re still working on that one.”
“I won’t have half my army depleted to take care of kids, even with the payoff of a higher population in the future.”
“Perhaps a nursery run by citizens we find as we sweep up? We don’t have all the solutions yet. We just feel that we should start immediately to get things back in order. I’m sure we’ll run into plenty of speed bumps. We’ll just have to get over them as best we can.”
“Colonel, unless I’m mistaken, I seem to recall that you don’t have any children.”
“No, none, Sir.” The Colonel’s face tightened up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw several other officers change their posture. We all came up with this together. Did they know he’d react this way? Was I set up as the fall guy? He clenched his jaw shut until the muscles bristled under his skin. He knew his face had turned red, and he did not meet anyone’s gaze, but thought he sensed one officer smiling. His mind raced to comprehend how it had all come together.
He could not erase the nagging thought that with the country in shambles, the conventional government practically swept aside, and the military assuming full control, several high-ranking officers started making aggressive bids for promotion. Damn it! I should’ve been more careful! His back stiffened up, and he sat still as the General leaned onto the table.
The General scratched his cheek before speaking. “They’re a lot of work, even just one. Two parents have to work all the time just to keep a single baby happy. Trust me, I know. It would take teams of people available twenty-four hours a day to care for a ward full of babies and provide for their growing needs as they enter childhood.”
“Yes Sir, but…”
The general ignored him and kept going. “The plan's heart is in the right place though. No, we’re not going to pick out men and women and just play matchmaker with them like Socialists. The future of this country, whatever it is, will not see the demise of the family unit. Children need stability and support, real nurturing, not some complex full of caretakers trying to help them grow up, hoping that their parents come back alive.” The General sat in his chair, eyes ablaze, looking over everyone’s heads at the wall. “We need citizens and warriors, one and the same, an environment encouraging the development of all aspects.”
“Sir? I don’t follow.” Half the Colonel’s mouth turned up and his eyes glazed over.
“Sparta. We build a new Sparta.”
“I think you lost me somewhere.”
The General had stopped fixing his eyes on anything in particular, and almost mumbled to himself. “Everything’s gone anyway. In times of need you do what’s necessary. We must build a new society where the military is not an attachment, an addendum, but completely integrated. Everyone will learn to fight, read, and write…everything. If necessary, we can call any and all to arms. We’ll never come up shorthanded again.”
“A new Sparta, Sir?” Colonel Lackland looked around the room at the other officers, but they still sat still. “I thought we were supposed to be a little bit closer to the city upon a hill, like Athens.”
General Riggs continued on still ignoring him. “Yes, that’s the answer. Start out by encouraging male and female soldiers to fraternize the old-fashioned way, meeting and talking. They won’t all have children at the same time. Incentives Colonel, as soon as possible, we offer better accommodation, amenities, and rations to those who get married and start families. After a few tours, they can get a family license and step out of the service part time to start have children. We can replenish our ranks by conscripting eligible survivors we find along the way. We’ll make up for the lack of numbers by giving them a lifetime of training, a country full of elite Special Forces. Encourage them to fraternize with soldiers from other squads. I like that idea. That’s how we’ll do it. And, for God’s sake, stop blowing up houses and burning everything! People have to live somewhere when this all blows over.”
“Licenses and better accommodation, Sir? How do we…?”
“I don’t have all the solutions yet, Colonel. We’ll have a lot of problems to solve as they arise. Don’t worry, the human race has always had the will to survive. It’ll work itself out. Get on it, Colonel. Give me weekly status reports starting next week. Oh, and you can implement that credit system you mentioned. It’s a good idea. Dismissed, gentlemen.”
“Yes Sir.” The Colonel spoke vacantly, his mouth hung open, his eyes cast off to nowhere.”
The officers stood up and left the meeting room, leaving the General alone. He looked around for a second and walked over to a painting depicting a battle in the Wilderness Campaign of the American Civil War.
As many paintings do, it portrayed an overly simplified insight into what the campaign represented. On the left side, General Robert E. Lee rode at the head of an engaging army, with his saber drawn, charging forward valiantly. On the other side General Grant stood amongst his men, pistol in hand, with a possessed look in his eyes as he pointed toward the Confederate lines. On each side some enlisted men with rifles aimed, others collapsed as a bullet tore into them, some reloaded, some lay already dead, and still others charged with fixed bayonets. Canons lit the air in brilliant flashes while their smoke filled the sky, thicker than fog. The Stars and Bars stood proudly waving behind a wash of gray uniforms, and the Stars and Stripes did the same behind a sea of blue. The painting accurately depicted the steely-eyed yearning on some men’s faces, white fear on some, and the screaming anguish on others, equally experienced on both sides.
General Riggs let his e
yes fall on each of the little details, soaking them up. “If you only knew what it has all come down to now, if you only knew.” He pursed his lips and knocked the painting’s frame with a knuckle then turned toward the exit.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Okay, light it!” Jackson held out a vodka bottle with a cloth wick hanging out the end.
Kathleen rolled her thumb across the jagged wheel of a cheap lighter, and it sparked to life. The vodka-soaked cloth burst into flames.
Jackson walked to the edge of the porch and hurled it down into the group of undead. It ruptured on one of their heads as alcohol fanned out and landed on clothes, skin, and hair. Slowly the flames climbed and grew, and the stench of burned flesh began to sit in the air. Jackson grabbed another bottle and held it out. “Again!” The flames came to life and he threw it down by the barricade where a large group almost had it torn down. He managed to make it explode on a bit of concrete and splash all over several of their legs. As they kept banging on the barricade, the flames inched up their pant legs and onto their shirts. A couple of them collapsed to their knees as the flames engulfed them, still trying to reach out and pull down the wooden wall.
Jackson pointed and screamed. “Yeah! How do you like that?” He began clearing his barricade off the stairs, pushing furniture over the side. As the undead clambered at the railing to get to him, he picked up another bottle and held it out for Kathleen to light. He kicked one in the face that tried to pull itself up on the stairs. The wick on the bottle roared to life, and he slammed it down on the crowd that had gathered below. As the flames mushroomed over them, they scurried around with blinded senses grabbing each other, or anything else, and fell down writhing until silence crept over them. Jackson flipped the couch over the side and it caught fire too. The undead still walked forward, and when they stepped on the couch their legs sank in and started smoldering, then the whole mass burst alight. The couch consumed one of them as the flames crawled up its body and wrapped around it. The creature slid off the railing and fell back into the couch's cushions which consumed it in fire.
Jackson pulled the Jeep key out of his pocket and clicked the ‘Unlock’ button on it. He grabbed his AK and ran up to Kathleen. “All right baby, here’s the key. I’ll cover you while you make a run for it. Go on.”
“Why are you giving me the key?”
“In case I don’t make it. You can still drive off.”
“Jackson, I don’t like this…”
“Stick to the plan!” He led her back down to the last of the barricade which had several burning bodies on the other side of it. They had already partially torn it off, so he kicked it several times until it all came crashing down. He raised his gun and shot one in the head that lumbered toward them, having just topped the hill. “Go, Kathleen, go!” She trotted as fast as she could with the heavy load in her stomach, which amounted to no more than a brisk walk. Jackson dropped two more that tried to come around the Jeep as she reached for the door handle, hopped in, and quickly closed the door behind her.
When her door shut, Jackson closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Thank God!” Then he looked around at the undead approaching him from every side. A few on the group’s fringes walked away from Jackson and rocked the Jeep back and forth. Jackson looked over at them and raised one arm. “Hey! Over here!” As they turned around, he slowly backed up the stairs toward the remaining liquor bombs. The remnants of the mob staggered to the steps and lumbered toward him. Jackson backed up, grabbed another bottle, and led them across the porch. Once they reached the middle, he lit the cocktail and hurled it at the group. His jaw dropped when the bottle hit the first one and bounced off its foot and landed beside it intact. He raised his gun and shot the bottle and grinned as the flames climbed up the leg of the lead creature. He immediately followed up with more gunfire, and bullets ripped through the crowd. He threw another bomb which exploded on the stairs and engulfed more. Within seconds they all fell to the ground either dead or burning. Jackson started to breathe a sigh of relief then heard sticks snapping as a couple more of the undead pushed out of the trees. No rest for the weary. He picked up the box containing the other bottles, their bag of necessities, ran down, and jumped in the Jeep. He quickly locked the doors before a couple more reached the windows and pushed on the side. When he turned around, he noticed Kathleen’s scowl.
“Don’t you ever let me see you take a stupid risk like that again, Jackson! What would I do if you died?”
“Sorry. I just had to think fast you know? Plans change.”
“They could have trapped you on the porch.”
“I know. I still could’ve jumped the railing.”
“And fallen ten feet. What would you have done with a sprained ankle?”
His head darted back and forth as more of the undead crowded the vehicle and smacked the windows with grimy hands. “Maybe we should go.” He turned the ignition and the engine purred to life, and he reversed and crushed one under the tires then sped down the hillside. He reached the street, pulled away from the property with a squeal of the tires, and accelerated down the road.
Behind them lay several smoldering bodies, and some others staggering around still searching for food.
✹✹✹
Laura and Donnie drove down the road away from town hoping to find a gas station with food and water. After a few miles they came across one on the county line that proudly displayed lots of signs saying “Beer Sold Here.” Donnie scanned all the signs as they pulled into the parking lot. “We must be entering a wet county.”
Laura snorted and rolled her eyes. “Like that matters anymore.”
“Looks deserted.”
They got out and walked slowly, their eyes whipping around everywhere, and busted the door open.
Once inside, they both looked at each other and smiled when they saw several rows of canned goods and various dry foods still neatly in place on the shelves, along with well stocked refrigerators.
Laura opened a bag and began stuffing food inside forcefully. “If those things don’t kill me, I think all this food will. How long do you think a person can live on cans of beans and potato chips before they have a heart attack?”
“I don’t know. Remember that movie where the guy ate fast food for a month?”
“Didn’t his doctor warn him about having a heart attack at the end of that?”
“Yeah, somethin’ like that. After one month he was breathin’ heavy just walkin’ up stairs and stuff. Ooh, Red Beans and Rice.” He smiled as he pulled a white and red box off the shelf.
“Load up on those.”
“Damn straight.”
They grabbed plastic bags from behind the counter and filled several of them as well and also raided the refrigerators for water then started loading the Humvee.
Donnie took a look around and leaned on the door. “Okay, I think that’s everything; we better get back. Do you think Jim’s still got those things distracted?”
“I hope so, or I don’t know how we’ll get back in.”
✹✹✹
Back at the factory Jim continued to bang on the fence while moving around the perimeter. As he got farther away from the front gate, a couple of the undead looked back, and then started shuffling toward the front. Gradually one followed them, then another, and another. In short order the whole mob began to stagger back to the entrance.
Meg watched them walk away and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Keep ‘em over there, Jim.”
“I can’t. They’re losing interest.”
“Well do somethin’!”
“Do what? They still have minds of their own.”
Meg squinted and placed her hand on top of her head then turned as she heard the horn honk. The Humvee’s bumper protruded out from some foliage by the road, and Meg turned back toward Jim pointing and yelling. “They’re back, Jim! We have to clear the gate.”
Jim watched as the undead reached the gate and began pushing on it. “It’s too late, Meg. They’
re crowding it again. Donnie and Laura have to help themselves. We did our best.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned away from the fence.
“Jim! No!” Meg stamped her foot as her body went rigid. “Try it again!” Her face contorted and turned red. “Jim!”
Jim dropped his head and started walking back toward the factory.
“Damn it!” Meg turned and looked where the Humvee’s bumper had been, and saw the front tire and passenger door poking out. She ran up to the gate and waved her hands. “Look at me! Come on! You can get me!” The undead pushed harder on the gate and groaned. She ran down the length of the fence still jumping and screaming while waving her hands, but they did not follow her away from the entrance. She pounded on the fence angrily but to no avail. Finally, she pursed her lips and started climbing. She reached the barbwire and managed to scramble over it, sustaining some minor cuts. She jumped down on the ground and raised her hands into the air. “Over here you bastards!” The undead slowly turned and their jaws opened as they laid eyes on her.
Jim heard Meg’s voice and looked over his shoulder, and then his eyes bulged.
“Meg! No! What are you doin’? He ran to the fence and banged on it. “Climb back over here! What the hell are you thinkin’?”
“Jim, I’ve got this under control. Go open the gate.”
“But…”
“Now Jim! They’re comin’. Open the gate!”
“Damn it!” Jim ran back to the gate and popped the plastic ties off with the snips Meg left near the entrance. He swung the doors open and waved quickly for the Humvee to come in.
Laura drove inside and stopped. She got out and saw Meg on the road leading the undead away. Her jaw dropped and she waved her hands in the air frantically. “Meg! What are you doin’? Get back in here! We’re inside, get outta there!”
The Inroad Chronicles (Book 1): Legion Seed Page 28
