David smiled. “Your father sounds like a good man,” he said.
“Nah, he was an alcoholic hardass who thought beating the kids with a belt was raising us right,” Galvan replied firmly, shaking his head. “But good advice is good advice.”
David’s eyes widened, and he looked a little embarrassed, and Bretz smacked him on the shoulder playfully as they continued following the Captain.
“If you’ll give your attention to the upper deck there, you can see our greenhouse farm,” Galvan continued, seemingly unperturbed. “The sunlight in these parts isn’t the greatest this time of year, so it’s been a real struggle to grow much of anything.”
Bretz shrugged. “I’m not the biggest farmer in the world, but it’s only been a month,” he said. “Even in the best cases, you should still be a couple weeks out from harvest, right?”
“While you are correct on that,” the Captain replied, “we were losing a significant portion of the seedlings before they could even begin to grow. In all honesty, if Seattle wasn’t picked to play host to the invasion, I doubt very seriously we would have lasted the winter.”
Stephens held up a hand. “David, make a note,” he said. “We need to bring up the greenhouse issue with the President. If they’re having issues with it, other cities might be as well.”
“Consider it done, sir,” David replied, scribbling on the back of one of the pages in the binder. “I actually speak with Whitney and John on a regular basis, and they’re handling the majority of the logistics for supplies. I can let them know, if you like.”
Stephens smiled. “Captain Kersey trusts you, which means I trust you,” he said sincerely. “See that it’s done.”
“Yes, sir,” David replied.
Kersey turned to the Captain. “What kind of population do you have here?” he asked.
“Two thousand, one hundred and forty-two,” Galvan replied proudly. “I’m sorry, forty-three,” he amended, shaking his head. “Had someone give birth to a bouncing baby boy a couple of days ago.”
“And morale?” Kersey asked.
Galvan shrugged. “About as good as can be expected with that many people living in a stadium eating MREs and stale leftover concession stand food,” he replied.
“How is your VIP list?” Stephens asked.
Galvan waved to a soldier nearby, who came running over with a large notebook, holding it out for the General.
“In there you’ll find a list of every VIP, as well as civilian family member, and soldier,” the Captain explained. “All listing their skill sets. We have a wide variety of people. Doctors, mechanics, a few gunsmiths. Even have a couple of honest to god blacksmiths.”
Bretz’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Where in the world did you find blacksmiths in Seattle?” he asked.
“As luck would have it, there was a renaissance fair setting up when this hit,” Galvan replied. “I figured with the lack of power and supplies, having some people skilled in old school ways might be worthwhile to have.”
The Corporal nodded in appreciation. “Good way of thinking about it.”
The General thumbed through the notebook and then handed it to David before looking at his watch. “David, please look this over before the meeting with the President,” he instructed. “Might need to call on you for some information.”
The communications expert blanched, blinking at him. “You… you want me in the meeting with the President?” He gaped.
“Outside of Captain Kersey here,” Stephens explained, “I’m guessing you know more about our current situation than anyone else. Plus, they’re on the other side of the country, so there’s not a damn thing they can do about my decision to have you in the room, now is there?”
David couldn’t help but smirk at the plucky General. “No sir, I guess there’s not,” he admitted.
“Captain Galvan, I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you to it,” Stephens said, turning back to him. “We have another meeting to attend. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Galvan shook his head. “No sir, I believe we’re all set here,” he said with a smile, and then slowly raised a finger. “Although, I do have one request.”
“Let’s hear it,” Stephens said.
“My people here are a little hesitant to rush back out into the world,” the Captain explained. “Especially with a week’s worth of fighting going on within earshot. If it’s all the same to you, I would like permission to allow them to stay in the stadium for the next few days, at least until the constant gunfire has died down for a bit.”
Stephens nodded. “I think that would be best, Captain,” he agreed. “In fact, I’m not sure what the housing plan even is, yet. Frankly, I’m not sure anybody has thought that far ahead.”
“Well, if you need a place to bed down for the night,” Galvan replied, “I’ll set you up in one of the VIP suites.”
The General chuckled, shaking his head. “Almost afraid to ask what that consists of.”
“We renovated the corporate skyboxes and turned them into getaway cabins,” the Captain explained. “Use it as a reward for when people went above and beyond around the stadium.”
Stephens smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied. “Thank you, Captain.” He turned back to his companions and rolled a hand above his head. “Well boys, shake a leg. Can’t keep the President waiting.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Kersey and Stephens sat at a small desk with a satellite phone sitting in the center of it. David and Bretz sat just behind them, against the wall. Mary entered with a tray of bottled water and set it down on the desk.
“Sorry it’s not chilled,” she said.
David chuckled. “Not your fault these slackers haven’t gotten the power back on, yet,” he said playfully. “It’s been a whole forty-five minutes since they took over the city, I think they’re getting lazy, don’t you?” He gave her a wink and she laughed, waving her hand at him.
“Be careful there David,” Kersey teased, “last time I made a joke, the General here put me on a train and sent my ass halfway across the country.”
Stephens stared cooly at the communications expert. “I’ll do it again, too.”
David started to laugh, but it fizzled out when he realized the General was still deadpanned. “Oh…” he stammered. “Uh… I’m sorry…”
Kersey and Stephens couldn’t hold back any longer, and burst into laughter, as David’s face went crimson, and he shook his head in relief.
“It’s good to know you can still go into ‘put the fear of god into them’ mode at the drop of a hat,” Kersey gasped through gales of giggles.
Stephens caught his breath and clapped his friend on the back. “Pretty sure it’s in the promotion requirements to be a General.”
“If not, it really should be,” the Captain replied, shaking his head.
The phone in the center of the table clicked on and a friendly male voice greeted them. “General Stephens, are you there?”
“We are,” Stephens replied, getting comfortable in his chair as he unscrewed the cap of one of the water bottles.
“Please hold for the President,” the man said. There were a few clicks, and then he continued, “Mister President, I have General Stephens.”
“Thank you,” President Williams said. “General Stephens, how are you getting set up in your new office?”
The General swallowed a swig of water before replying, “Very nicely sir, thank you. Have a nice view of Elliott Bay, and some enterprising young soldier figured out a way to get the coffee maker going, so life is good.”
“Fresh coffee and a view?” Williams replied. “So how does it feel to have a better situation than the President?”
Stephens laughed. “Don’t tell me they didn’t stock up the pantry before all this went down, sir,” he joked.
“There’s still some coffee left, but supplies are a little lower than I would prefer,” the President replied. “Contemplating sending General Adams here out on a store
run.”
There was some laughter through the line, and then Adams added, “There will be a shopping request sheet by the front vault door.”
“If it’s any consolation General,” Stephens piped up, “we are fresh out of creamer. So we’re roughing it out here.”
Adams chuckled. “That wouldn’t affect me, because I take my coffee like I take my women,” he replied. “Cold and bitter.”
There was more laughter on the line.
“As much as we would love to unpack General Adams’ coffee comment,” Williams cut in, sighing through his own mirth, “we do have a lot to get to today.”
There was a smattering of Yes, sir throughout the line.
“General Stephens, on my side of the line I have General Adams, Whitney Hill, and John Teeter,” the President continued.
Stephens leaned forward in his chair. “Good morning, everyone,” he greeted. “I’m joined by Captain Kersey. Listening in to the call is Corporal Bretz and civilian David Frazier.”
“Pardon the interruption,” Adams cut in, “but should we have a civilian not in the Presidential Bunker on this call? We know the people in this room aren’t talking to anybody.”
“General, I’ve been working with David closely over the last couple of weeks,” Whitney piped up, “closely coordinating troop movements and supplies. He’s a valuable resource.”
Kersey nodded, leaning in. “And to be frank, he probably knows more about the inner workings of the logistics than anybody else in this room,” he added. “Myself included.”
“All right,” Adams said quickly, “I withdraw my objection. Let’s move on.”
Williams cleared his throat. “So, if it’s okay with the rest of you, I’d like to start with the big picture. How are we looking in Seattle?” There were a few moments of silence, and then he clucked his tongue. “Please, don’t everybody start talking at once,” he joked.
There was some laughter on both sides, and then Whitney piped up, “Okay, I’ll kick things off. Our stronghold in Seattle is protected by water to the west, and our forces who marched in through the east. Our two big concern areas were to the north and south.” There was a shuffling paper and then a click. “Now I know that you can’t see our screen over the phone, so I’ll give it the best description I can for you. At the beginning of the invasion, we had a real concern about a significant number of zombies coming down from Vancouver. After receiving permission from those in the Canadian government, at least those we could locate, we launched a strike on the main bridges leading south of the city. As you can see by the satellite imagery, this was a wise move. There are an estimated hundred and fifty to two hundred thousand zombies that have found their way to the water’s edge, drawn by the noise.”
“Pardon the interruption,” Williams cut in, “but can they really hear our bombs going off that far north?”
“Indirectly they can,” John answered. “Think of it like standing on a football field and there’s someone every twenty yards. One person in the end zone yells something out, which is repeated by everyone down the line. The last person didn’t hear the first person yell, but he knows that he did. Similar situation here. Although there’s a good chance our missiles taking out the bridges account for a lot of the mass.”
“Point taken,” the President replied. “Please, Miss Hill, continue.”
“Thank you, Mister President,” Whitney said, and cleared her throat. “Now, even though the worst of our fears weren’t realized, we have still faced a significant, albeit manageable, threat. Stretching around fifty miles on the interstate are an estimated twenty thousand zombies. They are slowly working their way towards our northernmost barricade in Burlington.”
“What are we doing to mitigate this?” Williams asked.
“Over the last couple of days, we have been able to move up a couple thousand troops to that position,” Whitney continued, “and have begun doing hit-and-run operations to thin their numbers.”
The President made a small noise of confusion. “Hit and run operations?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied. “Setting fire traps, using abandoned cars as makeshift IEDs, things of that nature. We’re still expecting several thousand to eventually reach the barricades on the bridge, but those numbers are very manageable.” There was another click as she changed the screen they were watching on the other end. “Shifting to the south, we have successfully set up a barricade running from the water all the way across through the residential areas east of Renton. The airport is secure, and we have reinforcements being moved in via the water to back them up. On the interstate, we have several heavy machine gun lines set up, and a buffer of several hundred yards.”
“What kind of buffer?” Williams asked.
She paused. “Corpses.”
There was a short silence, and then he continued, “Seems a little morbid, don’t you think?”
“Morbid? Yes,” Whitney confirmed. “Effective? Absolutely. Those things have problems traversing uneven terrain, and thanks to some aerial strikes there is a whole lot of uneven terrain impeding their advancement.”
“Would enough of a force be able to push through it?” Adams piped up.
“Possibly,” she replied, “but their numbers have been split thanks to our Olympia crew.” There was another click, and then she continued, “A few days ago, we beached a ship to the west of Olympia. Those couple thousand troops were able to establish a beachhead and push forward to Olympia. Since then, they have launched numerous operations to draw the enemy in their direction, which has helped the northern group secure the line.”
“Any word on how that group is faring?” Williams asked.
John cleared his throat. “Yes, my team spoke with them this morning,” he replied. “The majority of the troops are set up in defensive positions to hold the attention of the crowds. They do have a few roving teams that are still active and bringing in more zombies, but they’re unsure of how long they’ll be able to keep that up.”
“Are they in any immediate danger?” the President asked, and then immediately continued, “Sorry, let me rephrase, as everybody outside is in immediate danger with those things.” He took a deep breath. “Are they in need of immediate assistance? Or can they sit tight for a few days before we send in a rescue team to relieve them?”
“By all accounts, they are set up for a few days,” John replied. “They’re secure, and they have plenty of rations to ride it out.”
“Okay, good,” Williams said. “General Stephens, if you wouldn’t mind making this a priority once the situation becomes more stable in the safe zone? I don’t want to leave those troops exposed any longer than necessary.”
Stephens nodded. “Yes, sir,” he replied, and took a sip of his water.
“Miss Hill,” Adams piped up, “has there been any update on the Portland horde? I know there were concerns about that group on the interstate coming north.”
“Yes,” she replied, and there were more shuffling papers as she continued, “our diversion tactics worked well. Virtually every zombie on the interstate started moving south after our bombing run.”
“That is fantastic news,” Adams commended.
“Well, it is fantastic news for our southern flank,” Whitney agreed. “However, we saw something of a concern on our last scan.” More clicks. “One of my team members noticed this, and they are confident that this wasn’t there before the strike.”
There was a long pause, and then Williams said, “Forgive me Miss Hill, but I’m having a difficult time understanding what I’m seeing here.”
“We did too at first,” she replied. “Our working hypothesis is that these metal contraptions on the road were able to take out a significant number of zombies. As you can see, there is a radius around each device that is clear of corpses. They appear to be lawnmowers with metal rods welded to them like helicopter blades.”
“So what’s your takeaway on that?” the President asked.
“We believe that there were survivor
s in this area that were forced out due to our bombing run,” Whitney replied.
Everyone on both sides of the call fell silent.
“I was under the impression we weren’t targeting civilians with this strike,” Williams finally said.
“Mister President,” John spoke up slowly, “we used every bit of intelligence we had to do our best to aim away from the populated areas, or what we assumed were populated areas. The surrounding area is heavily wooded, so it’s entirely possible that we missed a settlement. TO be blunt, without direct contact or eyes on the ground, we wouldn’t have any idea they were there.”
Williams sighed heavily. “Okay, I understand,” he murmured, and then cleared his throat. “General Stephens I hate to continue to add to your workload, but can you please add sending assistance to Portland when you have a chance?”
“Yes, sir,” Stephens replied, nodding. “Once we get Olympia squared away, I will send a team down there to investigate.”
“Thank you, General,” Williams replied. “Okay, is there anything else with the broad strokes? Or can we get into the nitty gritty of the safe zone?” There was a moment of silence, and then he continued, “All right, moving on. Does anybody have an update on clearing the buildings within the safe zone?”
“General Stephens, does anybody on your end have a figure on this?” John asked. “I know that we have had teams operating since the beginning of this, but with the ebbs and flow of battle, I imagine some teams were repurposed during the assault.”
Stephens turned in his chair and smiled. “I believe David is going to be the best one to answer this question.”
The man in question stared at him with wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. Bretz smacked him on the back and pointed to the desk.
David scurried forward, white-knuckling the binder, and Kersey got up, offering his chair. He sat down beside Bretz, just as David fumbled the binder, sending it down onto the desk with a loud SMACK.
Dead America The Northwest Invasion | Book 12 | Dead America: Seattle [Part 10] Page 3
