by Lee West
“I was thinking the same thing. As much as I didn’t want to get caught, those guys saved us back there. I was sure Chet and his henchmen would catch up to us. If he did, we would’ve all been dead. They were right on our heels,” said Joe.
“What do you think happened to Chet and the others?”
“Sounded like the soldiers shot first and asked questions later. If you ask me, the three of them are dead.”
“Probably right. No loss there. Those guys were a bunch of sick, mean men. I’m sorry your brother got involved with them. He seems like a really nice guy.”
“Me too. Jeff always seemed to be too nice for his own good. He never had a good sense of when he needed to protect himself from others. Kim is a case in point. He should have left her long ago.”
The truck slowed and then stopped. From their vantage point, Joe could not see their location. He shook Meg to wake her and said, “Hey, sleepyhead. We might be there. Wake up. I need to get up and look.”
She lifted her head groggily from his shoulder and wiped her eyes. He got up and moved carefully to the back of the truck. Moving the canvas aside, he tried to get a better view of their location. If the soldiers had left their hands zip-tied, he would not have been able to move around without falling. When they had been loaded onto the back of the truck, it seemed like the ties would be kept in place. At the last minute, he’d begged for them to be removed, claiming they could not sit on the benches with their hands behind them. One of their captors took pity on them and removed the ties just before the truck sped away.
“Looks like we might be there. Holy smokes, look at the number of tents they have set up! This place is immense!” said Joe.
Meg and Mike joined him at the back of the truck to witness their arrival.
“Geez, this place is way bigger than I could have imagined,” said Meg.
Canvas tents sat neatly lined up in straight rows for as far as the eye could see. Large tan-colored corrugated metal buildings had been interspersed between the tents in the massive makeshift city.
“Look at the fencing! Looks like they mean business! No way anyone is getting out of this place!” said Mike.
“Not unless they dig,” said Meg with a wink.
“You mean no one is getting inside. Look at the top of the fencing, it’s angled outward. That’s to prevent someone from getting inside, not to stop people from leaving,” said Joe.
“Damn. You’re right. And look at the concertina wire. It’s entirely around the exterior perimeter of the fence. It would discourage someone from trying to climb up and over to get inside. Interesting. I wonder what they’re trying to keep out?” said Mike.
A few seconds later the truck moved slowly past the entrance, heading farther into the camp. The movement caused Joe to weave slightly as he made his way back to the bench.
“I’m scared,” said Meg, squeezing his hand.
“Me too,” he said.
Joe kissed her softly, trying to comfort her. He had no way to reassure her or protect her from what might lie ahead. In some ways the feeling of being powerless hurt Joe more than anything he had witnessed.
“I feel like we should make a run for it. Try to get away one last time,” said Meg in a low whisper.
“Throughout the entire drive I thought about nothing else. But after seeing the explosions and tracers shooting across the sky as we drove away from the mountains, I realized that this thing is bigger than any of us,” said Mike.
Before Joe could answer, he heard the driver’s truck door slam shut.
“Okay. Let’s go! End of the line!” said the driver as he opened the canvas.
Following his instructions, they jumped out of the truck onto solid ground. The truck had vibrated so much on their trip to the camp that Joe’s feet still buzzed from the motion.
“Follow me!” said the man.
“Where are you taking us?” asked Meg.
“To processing. You need to go through intake and then wait in lockdown.”
Several other uniformed soldiers came toward them to greet their driver.
“Hey, man. How’s it out there?” said one of them.
“It’s a mess. I’m glad to be back. Bravo Group found these three running for their lives and picked them up. Can you take them to processing for me? I need to get cleaned up.”
“Sure. We’ve got them,” said another man to their driver.
The men did not seem particularly concerned about the three of them running or putting up a fight. Something felt off to Joe. Joe would have expected to be treated more like a prisoner who might escape than a person arriving as a guest. Instead, the soldiers casually walked them to one of the buildings.
A cold gush of air escaped Building D as one of the soldiers opened the door for them. The vast space seemed to be organized in alphabetical order. Signs displaying segments of the alphabet hung above large tables. One or two military persons sat at each table, waiting to address newcomers.
“Come on in! Don’t be shy!” yelled one of the men to them.
One of the soldiers gave Joe a gentle nudge on the shoulder, pushing him forward. Looking around, Joe realized that the other men must have left, because they had been nowhere in sight when they entered the building. Again, he had the sense that nothing added up the way he would have expected.
“Find the first letter of your last name and proceed to that intake table!” yelled one of the women.
Meg glanced at Joe and said, “I feel like I just got dropped off at summer camp, not an internment camp. Something’s off.”
“I agree. This isn’t at all what I thought it would be.”
Mike tapped Joe on the shoulder and said, “I’m a Jensen. I’m going through that line over there. See you on the other side.”
“Okay, man. Let’s meet up here when we’re done. If possible.”
Joe and Meg moved slowly toward the section containing the letter B for Birch. Joe did not know if the cool air made him feel better or if the decidedly less tense atmosphere in the intake building had caused the shift in him. In either case, for the first time in weeks, he felt his body relaxing, becoming less stressed.
“Last name?”
“Birch, Meg and Joe.”
The female soldier typed something into the computer and then looked up at them. “First time here, huh?”
“Yes,” said Joe. He squeezed Meg’s hand, willing her not to mention where they had been.
She seemed to pick up on his signal, stopping herself from adding anything to the conversation, as she otherwise might have done.
“Since this is your first time here, we’ll need you to go through full processing. Mr. Birch, looks like you are former Navy. That should save you some shots.”
“Shots?” asked Meg.
“Yes. Everyone who comes through here is fully immunized. We can’t afford a breakout of measles. Religious freedom might work for parents to stop kids from being vaccinated before school starts, but it won’t work here. Everyone gets up to date,” said the woman sternly.
“I think I’m up to date on everything. Can’t I—” started Meg.
“Nope. Everyone except recently separated active-duty members get vaccinated with the full array of shots. No exceptions.”
“Don’t worry. They’ll be over before you know it. It’s probably a speed line like we did in the Navy. You walk through a line, getting hit from all sides. It’s not fun, but it’s quick. You’ll be fine,” said Joe.
His comments did not seem to make her feel any better. Meg hated shots more than anyone he knew. Nothing Joe could say would make running the vaccine gauntlet easier on her and he knew it.
“Do you have kids?” asked the woman.
“No,” answered Meg.
The woman typed into the computer while Meg and Joe waited. Finally, she seemed satisfied with her efforts and looked up at them.
“Spit in this, please,” she said as she handed Meg a vial.
The small printer on the table print
ed labels. Once Meg spit into the vial, the woman put a label on it, identifying it as coming from Meg Birch. Then the woman stood and leaned across the desk to Meg.
“Open wide. I need to get a cheek swab,” said the woman.
“Is all of this necessary?” asked Joe.
“Sure is. Now you. Please come forward.”
She did the same to Joe. When she finished, she issued them each a badge containing their names and a photo ID. Joe noticed the picture came from his driver’s license. It had been one of the worst pictures he ever took. It made him look more than a little insane.
“All set here. Move back to the orange line over there and wait. Someone will be around to gather you.”
“Where are we being taken?” asked Meg.
“You have to stay in lockdown until the lab is finished with your samples. After that, assuming everything works out fine, you’ll be cleared to move to your assigned tent. You’ll also need to come back here to get inked. The back of your ID tag contains your tent number. The camp is laid out on a grid. You’re here and your new home is here. But don’t get excited. It could take a day or so for the lab to clear the two of you. In the meantime, you’ll get shots, clothing and shower time,” said the woman. “If you make it out of lockdown, chow times are seven, twelve, and six. Eat when you can because there are no snacks.”
“Inked?” asked Joe.
“Only those tested and cleared get one of these,” said the woman, rolling up her sleeve. She had the same shiny ink patch on her forearm as Larry had.
She handed them a map of the base and sat back down.
Joe could not believe the treatment they’d received. Confusion caused him to remain in place for a few seconds longer than he probably should have.
Meg grabbed his hand and said, “Come on. Let’s go. Looks like Mike’s already waiting at the orange line.”
“That was easy,” said Mike.
“Too easy. What the hell is going on here?” said Joe.
“I have no idea,” said Mike.
A soldier entered the building carrying a clipboard. He headed straight to the three of them. “Come on. This way to lockdown.”
They followed him out of the intake tent back to the warm day. The stifling heat caused Joe to gasp when he first walked outside. Within minutes he adjusted to the change in environments.
“Are you two a couple?” the soldier asked, turning to Meg and Joe.
“Yes. We’re married,” said Joe defensively.
“Too bad. You’ll have to be separated in lockdown. The dorms are gender specific. Ma’am, this is your dorm,” said the soldier to Meg.
Joe walked over to her and hugged her. He did not want to leave her but knew they had no choice but to separate.
Pulling back, he cupped her face in his hands and said, “The intake lady said this part would only be a day or so at most. Then we’ll be back together. It’ll be fine.”
He kissed her softly then opened the door for her.
Someone from the inside yelled, “Are you Meg Birch?”
Meg walked into the dark interior of the women’s dorm.
“Let’s go, boys! Your dorm is just here,” said the soldier, pointing to the next building.
Even though the buildings sat side by side, they felt miles away to Joe.
— 31 —
The interior of the men’s barracks felt no different than any other military barracks Joe had stayed in over the years. Neat rows of bunk beds dominated the interior. A large sign on one of the walls identified the bathrooms, which included communal showers.
Just inside the doors, two soldiers sat behind a large desk. The desk boasted several large computer monitors. Joe glanced at them as casually as possible, trying not to make his spying obvious.
“Go ahead and look,” said one of the soldiers. “The entire camp is covered with cameras. Nothing happens around here without being seen. You are confined to this building until cleared. Make no mistake, you try to leave and we’ll know it.”
“When the lab results are finished, if they clear you, then you can go to your assigned tents. Got it?” said the other soldier.
“Got it,” said Mike.
“Here are your bunk assignments. Fresh clothes are on the bunks. I suggest you use the shower facilities. You guys are really ripe,” said one of the men.
The other soldier laughed then added, “Shit, man. I thought that smell was from your lunch!”
Mike and Joe walked through the rows of bunk beds until they arrived at the ones assigned to them. Joe’s bed had been neatly tucked in the manner he’d learned in basic training. On top of the pristine bed sat a pile of clothing consisting of a shirt, pants, underwear and flip-flops. The outfit looked like the ones prisoners wear. A fresh white towel hung on the side rail of the bunk.
Joe could not help but notice that the other men in the dorm looked them up and down as though they had been living at the bottom of a swamp for the past month. Glancing down at himself, he realized why. Mud covered the entire front of his body. His hands were filthy from digging under the fence to escape the survivalist camp. He looked like a fugitive who had not showered in weeks, maybe months. Mike didn’t fare much better.
“I think I’m going to listen to their less than kind suggestion and take a shower,” said Joe.
“Me too. I stink and feel completely disgusting,” said Mike.
Joe grabbed his new clothes and headed to the bathroom. The water felt sublime. The camp had great water pressure, unlike the university. Finally, he had a proper shower, with soap and shampoo. He washed, rinsed and rewashed so many times he thought he would scrub off a layer of skin.
After thoroughly showering and shaving for the first time since their ordeal started, Joe returned to his bunk and lay down. He hoped Meg had similar accommodations.
Mike lay in his bunk just above Joe. Within minutes of Mike’s return, Joe heard him snoring. It started quietly enough but then built up over time to the loudest snoring Joe had heard. Eventually, Joe felt able to block out the persistent, disordered breathing, and fell in a deep sleep.
A commotion woke him. Joe wore no watch, so he could not tell how long he had been sleeping. The building’s tall metal walls did not contain windows, leaving him unable to determine the general time of day by the sky.
The noise came from the guard desk. The men were playing some sort of card game that became animated. Joe listened for Mike’s snoring but heard nothing.
“You awake?” he asked.
“I am now. How long was I out for?”
“I have no idea. They woke me up too,” said Joe.
“I’m going back to sleep. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so good.”
“Same here. I’ll wake you if anything happens,” said Joe.
Joe dozed in and out of sleep. Occasionally he got up to relieve himself but then quickly found his cot again. Returning to sleep required no effort at all. His exhausted body seemed to sink into the mattress, effortlessly finding deep sleep.
“BIRCH! JENSEN!” yelled someone.
“BIRCH AND JENSEN!”
Joe woke with a start, sitting up immediately after hearing his name called.
“Mike! Get up! They’re calling us!” he said as he shook the bunk.
The two scrambled to the guards’ desk. One of the men looked up from the document he held to them. “Looks like you guys are cleared. Welcome home, ladies. Feel free to grab your things and find your tents.”
“That was fast. They told us it could take a day or two to process our labs, whatever that means,” said Mike.
“It did. You two princesses have been snoring the entire time. Almost blew the roof off with that racket. No one had the heart to wake you. Judging by your appearance and how much you slept, you guys must’ve seen a lot out there.”
“That’s an understatement, to say the least,” said Mike.
“My wife? Do you know where she is?” asked Joe.
“Beats me. If she was cleared,
then she’ll be headed to your tent. If not, they’ll transport her off the facility.”
“Off the facility? To where?” asked Joe, slightly panicked.
“Sorry. That knowledge is beyond my pay grade.”
Mike and Joe walked out of the building into the blinding sunlight. Joe thought it should be night, not day. Sleeping for hours at a stretch confused him when he woke. It never seemed like the right time of day.
“I don’t get any of this. I have to admit that I’m totally confused,” he said to Mike.
“Me too. Where’s your tent?” asked Mike.
“J6. Yours?”
“B3. Looks like we’re not even close to one another,” said Joe. He turned the map in his hands, trying to get an idea of the camp’s layout.
“Lunch is in forty-five minutes. I’m going to find my tent and shower beforehand. Meet you at the chow hall?” said Mike.
“Sure. Let’s meet at this one here. It’s sort of in between our two locations. With any luck, Meg will be joining us,” said Joe.
“Sounds like a plan. See you then.”
He left the lockdown building, searching the tent city. Although the camp seemed well organized, for the uninitiated, finding their way around was not as intuitive as the check-in woman had led them to believe. Several wrong turns resulted in him walking down long rows of tents that seemed to have no end. Finally he found his assigned tent.
Opening the flap, he walked into the shade of the tent. The sparse accommodations contained nothing but two cots and two lockable trunks. The keys remained in the locks. He had nothing of value to store inside the trunks. The only thing he held precious was Meg. He’d thrown away the entire outfit he’d worn to the camp. Cheapness usually made him hesitate to throw things away, but the clothes had been beyond salvage.
Sitting on the bed, his thoughts returned to Meg. He contemplated going to the female lockdown dorm to inquire about her whereabouts. Just as he turned to get up, Meg burst into the tent. “Joe!” she exclaimed excitedly.
They moved toward each other quickly, bonding their bodies together as one. He inhaled her as he held her tightly.
