by Lee West
“Hey, Marvin!”
“Ah, Larry, good man! Nice to see you. I thought I’d never be relieved from sitting here,” said Marvin.
The old man stood and stretched in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Beams of sunlight poured into the open space, heating it to the point of being barely tolerable.
“It is surprisingly difficult to ‘stand watch,’ as they say,” said Marvin as he collected his things.
“Yes. Boredom comes very quickly with no entertainment up here. That’s why there are always two people on watch at each station during the night. Otherwise, who could stay awake left alone? I’d be asleep in two minutes.”
“I brought reading material but then put my book down, figuring I was supposed to be watching, not reading. Anyhow, good luck! See you at dinner.”
Larry settled into the most comfortable chair the room had to offer. His long legs stretched out in front of him and his arms dangled from the edges of the too small office chair. The professor’s chair did provide more comfort than the numerous student chairs located behind the desks. Besides, he hated school, always had. Sitting in a crappy school chair would just remind him of all the firsts he’d experienced while at school. His first broken nose. His first suspension. The first time he was molested.
He grew up in the inner city of St. Louis, without much parenting to help him navigate the rough waters of adolescence. People looked at him differently because of his size. While still a child, he appeared to be a man. Consequently, when he got into trouble, those in authority dealt with him much harsher than a smaller boy his age would have been treated. At the age of fourteen, his various fights, dangerous school pranks, and drug use resulted in a permanent suspension from school and placement in a home for boys.
Rita, Larry’s mom, could not help her son any more than she could help herself out of the pitiful circumstances of her life. They bounced around from one apartment to another over the course of his youth. Ultimately they ended up staying on friends’ couches or in homeless shelters. When the state finally took Larry away from Rita, severing her parental rights, the damage to the boy had been done—his future nearly carved in stone.
At the age of eighteen the authorities released him from the “reformatory school.” He would never forget the day they told him he could leave. They never told him where he should go, only that he could leave. He had long since lost contact with his mother, and the string of foster homes never resulted in permanent relationships. With no home to call his own, he returned to the only place he knew he could find a bed. A homeless shelter.
Shortly after finding a place at the First Parish Men’s Home, his problems reignited. A wily man named Vic singled him out for “special favors.” Unbeknownst to Larry, Vic ran a serious racketeering business, which also included drugs and prostitution. Vic showered Larry with cash, alcohol and women. Soon, he moved out of the shelter and into one of Vic’s “spreads,” as he called his apartments.
Unfortunately, Larry didn’t know enough about the real world to recognize that Vic was using him because of his size to do increasingly dangerous and illegal tasks. Ultimately, his relationship with Vic resulted in his arrest. The first night in jail, he used his one phone call to reach out to the only person he thought would help him. Instead of being his savior, Vic turned a cold shoulder to him, saying he really could not get involved. Larry ended up pleading guilty to various charges, including assault with intent to kill, and possession of Class C drugs with intent to distribute. The judge sentenced him to six years in the state penitentiary.
The years he did in the state penitentiary turned Larry into an angry, vicious man. He suffered at the hands of the guards more than his fellow inmates, who seemed too afraid to touch him. The guards, on the other hand, seemed to relish the thought of breaking the large man. The guards increased the severity of Larry’s punishment through their repeated beatings and frequent solitary confinement.
Upon his release from prison, he focused single-mindedly on never returning. During his time in prison, he managed to finish high school and earn a GED. The GED allowed him to obtain work at Raw as a bouncer. He worked as many hours as humanly possible and saved every penny of his money until he could afford an apartment of his own. Moving out of the shelter and into the tiny basement studio apartment had been the proudest moment of his life. Unable to afford furniture, he slept and ate on the floor and loved every moment of it. He had been in the apartment for only six months when the lights went out. Then the soldiers came.
They rounded up everyone, him included, and brought them to a camp. His time in the penitentiary and lack of usable skills flagged him as only suitable for hard physical labor. He had been given the task of digging ditches with other men in his group. The conditions and treatment seemed no different than being on the inside. Determination to escape burned in him with a ferocious power until he finally found his opportunity and ran for freedom.
Locating a campus full of people who had also avoided capture seemed too good to be true. He determined to never tell anyone about what he had seen in the outside world. Instead, he nestled into the university and enjoyed the feeling of being an active member of their group.
“Knock, knock!” said Jill, a student.
“Hi, Jill. What brings you here?”
“I thought I’d make rounds to all the watch stations with some snacks. I have candy, chips and granola bars. You want anything?”
“Don’t mind if I do. Thanks!”
Grabbing bags of salty and sweet goodness from the stockpile made him believe he had died and gone to heaven. He would do everything he could to remain on campus, concealed from the outside world.
— 12 —
Ed made his rounds without the vigor he normally felt when checking in with people. He needed to pay a visit to Sal, but could not seem to make himself go to the top floor of the hospital. The risk of seeing a mummification in progress disturbed Ed immensely. He preferred less gory endeavors, even shunning bloody horror films at every turn. Today he was determined to put aside his squeamishness for the sake of the group.
After Dr. Lordes started his work on the bodies, the gruesome smell in the hospital began to get rapidly better. Hopefully, upon completion of the mummification steps, the smell would be gone entirely.
“Sal? You up here?” shouted Ed.
A thin shroud of dust covered the once gleaming white floors. The teaching hospital had been a jewel among teaching facilities. It boasted some of the world’s best researchers, all working toward finding cures for the most exotic and deadliest disease pathogens. Now it looked more like an underfunded and ignored inner-city hospital.
“Over here!” answered Sal from the far corner of the building.
Ed grimaced. He had hoped Sal might be on a break or his voice wouldn’t carry. Instead, the mummy-maker walked out of the operating theater. He wore blood-soaked hospital scrubs under a long, thick plastic apron. Sweat glistened across his broad forehead, soaking his surgical cap.
“Hi, Ed! What brings you up here?”
“I thought I’d check in with you to see how things are going.”
“Everything is fine. I think at this point I could go back in time and get a job as an Egyptian high priest. I’m actually getting good at the entire process.”
“I’m glad to hear it. The smell has really decreased. That’s something everyone is grateful for.”
“It won’t be long before the smell will be gone entirely. I just have one more cadaver to dismantle.”
His use of the word dismantle in reference to a human body made Ed’s stomach lurch.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to gross you out,” said Sal with a slight laugh.
“No worries at all. It’s part of the territory. I’m just glad you met me out here in the hallway. I really dreaded going into the operating room.”
“Yes. You’re right about that. You wouldn’t want to be in there. Believe me. It’s not a scene for the uninitiated.”
“A
re you happy with the results?” asked Ed.
Ed assumed mummification would preserve the human remains for the families who would be back for their loved ones. He just did not know what level of preservation they could achieve.
“I’m very happy with the results. I think the families will be as well. I can show you if you want?”
Ed hesitated, not wanting to be rude; then he finally said, “No. Your assurances are enough for me. So long as you think the families will be pleased and the smell is gone, I’m a happy camper.”
“They’ll be pleased. I’m sure of it.”
“Thanks very much for taking on the project. I know it’s not exactly in your line of work, but we really needed this to be done.”
“Actually, I’m happy to have a project. Wish I had a few more bodies to work on. It’s been keeping me occupied and out of trouble,” said Sal with a wink.
“I doubt we’ll have any volunteers, but I’ll keep an eye out for you,” said Ed, laughing.
Ed ran down the flights of stairs with a bounce in his step. Sal seemed to be doing an excellent job of preserving the bodies. However, the lightness of his mood came from seeing Sal so happy. Although Ed had not known Sal prior to the emergency, it seemed as the days progressed, the man had become more and more depressed. On more than one occasion, Ed had seriously worried for him because his mood seemed so dark. Now the doctor beamed with purpose. Nothing gave Ed more satisfaction than seeing another person happy.
— 13 —
Nancy and Brett reclined on the grass in the center of campus. Ed allowed everyone to use the grassy area for fresh air and exercise. The watchers could alert the people outside long before any soldiers actually made it onto the university grounds. Plus, the outdoor recreation area, as they now called it, had easy access to the tunnels, making it an instant favorite for everyone.
Nancy felt as though she needed to go outside periodically in order to keep her sanity. The stuffy air and darkness in the tunnels played tricks on her mind. The dim lights used in their subterranean world caused ever-changing shadows on the tunnel walls. At times those shadows looked like humans. At other times, the shadows were more sinister creatures right out of a sci-fi horror film.
“Where do you think they are?” asked Nancy.
“Hopefully near the camp, if there is one.”
“You don’t think there’s a camp out there for them to find?”
“I have no idea. I just feel like they don’t have a lot of information to work with. Ed did a great job analyzing the area, but even so, they’re really just guessing,” said Brett.
“True. I’d hate to think they’re on a wild-goose chase,” she said.
“Exactly. I had my reservations about them going, but Joe did seem fairly certain that there’s a survivalist camp somewhere in the mountains. That gave me pause. Now I wish I had spoken my mind.”
“I know. I’m feeling it too. But they’ll be as careful as possible. You’ll see. Within a few days, they’ll be back with reports about the camp, or lack thereof.”
Nancy laid her head back down onto the soft grass. A few longer blades tickled the side of her neck and face, causing her to itch. The grass had grown since the lights went out. Without anyone around to fix the mowers and do regular maintenance, the campus began to look abandoned.
“Here comes Ed,” said Brett.
Nancy sat up as Ed walked toward them. She did not want to be lying down in front of her boss. Even though the situation hardly required formality, she still felt better sitting up than lying flat when he approached.
“Hey, guys! Soaking up the sunshine?”
“You got it. As much as we can possibly get,” said Brett.
Ed sat down to join them. Usually Ed seemed to be on the move, resting only at night.
“It’s nice to see you taking a break,” commented Nancy.
“I feel like I need one. Worrying about our cycling group is killing me,” said Ed.
“We were just talking about that. I think they have the best possible chance of finding the camp. At this point, all we can do is wait for their return,” said Brett.
Nancy considered Ed for a moment and then said, “What do you think happened?”
“With what?” said Ed.
“I mean with all of this. Like, what’s your guess on what caused the EMP? It just occurred to me that we never asked you.”
“Every day I ask myself that same question. I haven’t come to any solid conclusions, of course. I’d like to think something innocent started the ball rolling. But it just makes no sense that the troops would be on us so quickly. It’s like they were prepared for this somehow,” said Ed.
“We think the government orchestrated an EMP in order to use it as an excuse to round up civilians,” said Brett.
“Yes. That’s the consensus around here too. But for what purpose?”
“The erosion of our Fourth Amendment rights. You’ll see, this whole thing will get resolved. Everyone will move back home just like nothing happened. Then Congress will craft some sort of hole right through the search and seizure laws.”
“I’m worried about that too. They could use this event to justify the complete eradication of probable cause. That’s the easiest thing to do. Without the police needing probable cause to stop motorists or to enter and search a home, they’d run completely free.”
“None of us would be safe. It’s easy to imagine petty, small-minded politicians using the local police as their own personal hit squad. They could quickly incarcerate just about anyone they deemed a threat to their office,” said Ed.
“Exactly. And once incarcerated, the politicians could also dispense with the right to a speedy trial. People could be sitting in jail for years before a judge ever reviewed their case,” said Nancy.
“I’m sure glad I’m not in the Sociology Department. You guys are freaking me out!” said Brett.
“Too bad Marvin isn’t here. He can really spin a good conspiracy tale,” said Ed, chuckling.
“Unless you guys are right, in the end it probably doesn’t matter what happened,” said Brett.
“No. It doesn’t matter. I’m trying to focus my energy on staying out of the whole mess. If I can keep us safe and out of one of their internment camps, we might just make it through this thing,” said Ed.
“Yes. We just might make it through this thing thanks to your leadership,” said Nancy.
— 14 —
Joe checked his watch for the tenth time in under a minute. Overkill for sure, but he really wanted to be certain they did not pass the location where he suspected the camp to be. The only way to determine their progress on the map required them to keep a steady pace and for him to scrutinize the time.
“We should stop here. I think we’ve gone far enough,” said Joe, slowing his bike.
“Do you think we should be there?” asked Meg as she pulled up next to him.
“I haven’t seen any cross streets. It’s odd,” said Mike.
“I know, it is odd. I don’t think we passed it. I’ve been really careful not to pass the entrance. I think at this point we need to walk the bikes and look closely for a road on the right side. From the looks of the map, it’s not much of a road. We could easily miss it.”
Joe dismounted and walked the bike forward, scanning the bushes along the road for any sign of a gap. He hoped his rough calculations were correct. If not, they had a long walk in front of them.
A few minutes later Meg said, “Okay. I officially hate pushing this stupid bike more than riding it. Who knew this would be so hard?”
“Maybe we should ditch the bikes. We could mark their location on the road, like we did when we hid Brett and Nancy’s bikes. It might be easier than walking with them,” said Mike.
“Sure. That could work. With any luck, we won’t have far to go,” said Joe. “The camp has to be close.”
They quickly placed their bikes in a concealed location in the forest. Meg collected rocks for marking the spot on the r
oad.
“That should do it,” said Meg, placing the last rock.
The group continued their slow progress toward the camp. Their near silent footfalls allowed them to hear more of the forest sounds.
“I’m just not seeing anything. Maybe Ed was wrong and the camp isn’t up here?” said Mike.
“Or maybe I’m wrong and the camp isn’t even in this area,” said Joe, crestfallen.
“It has to be here. Let’s keep going for a little ways. If we don’t see a road or any indication that the camp is here, then we can consider looking at the second location,” said Meg.
“You’re not concerned about the soldiers we saw earlier?” asked Mike.
“I am concerned about them. But we haven’t seen or heard anything for a few hours. I’d think if they were near enough to be a threat, we’d know.”
“We didn’t last time,” said Joe.
“I know, but this time we’re listening for them. Besides, I really don’t want to have to ride back out here,” said Meg.
“That’s odd,” said Mike.
“What?”
“Look at this black mark on the road. It’s curved,” said Mike.
“So? What’s odd about that?” asked Joe.
“A curved arch like that only comes from wheels turning, not going straight. Like they were skidding.”
“Maybe there was an accident here?” offered Meg.
“I don’t think so. The length of the arch and the curve indicate that it has to be a car turning. Quickly, but not an accident. Accident skid marks are usually longer and deeper. As the car is struggling to slow down, it will leave a long straight mark on the road. This mark, although faint, is from a vehicle turning. We need to look into the trees closer.”
Impressed, Joe asked, “How do you know so much about skid marks?”
“A number of years back, my grandma was in a really bad car wreck. It was so bad that it left her paralyzed from the waist down. The other guy caused it but wouldn’t pay for her medical care. His insurance company claimed they were both at fault, so she got a good lawyer and sued them.”
