Virgil's War- The Diseased World

by Larry Robbins

“I have an excellent memory. I have seen all of your faces, and I will remember you if I ever see you again. If you are found anywhere in Fresno or Clovis again, we will hang you. There will be no reprieve, no trial, nothing like that. It will be a rope around your neck, plain and simple.”

  He pointed to the girl with the black hair. “You will pay the price for your friends’ aggression. Everyone else will start running west on that road.” He pointed to Ashlan Avenue. I will give you three minutes to get out of rifle range. Your time starts now.”

  The group of marauders gave a brief look at the teen girl then took off at a sprint. The girl’s shoulders were shaking, and her body racked with sobs. The Major told Marcus to put her in the hummer then he walked over to us.

  “Why are you punishing her more than the others?” I demanded to know.

  He put a finger to his lips to stop my shouts.

  “I don’t intend to punish her,” he whispered. “I need information, and she seemed like she’d be the easiest one to crack. She’s a child, and she’s scared to death. I can use that. I wanted her friends to think she was going to be shot and to carry that story back to whoever is pulling their strings.” He smiled and gestured for us to head toward the Humvee. “Marcus has offered us a gift to replace the Bronco. Take it and get Virgil back home so the doctor can see him. We’ll follow along behind you.”

  Pops and Buck helped me to the military truck. The girl was in the back seat, visibly trembling still. Someone had tied a blindfold around her eyes. Buck jumped into the driver’s seat, and Pops poked his head up through the turret and checked the M-240 to ensure it was ready to go. He had already traded off the one I usually used to Jimmy. I slid into the back seat next to the girl and off we went.

  The girl was convinced she was being taken out to be murdered and she shook more with each passing second. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I leaned over and whispered into her ear. “Relax, no one’s going to hurt you.”

  She seemed to react to my whisper. Her sobs stopped, and her shaking diminished even if it didn’t go away completely. She appeared to relax just a bit as we bounced and rattled our way up through the back entrance to our property.

  When we arrived at the compound, Sharon and Dr. Tashnizi were waiting. Sharon was standing behind the lone wheelchair with which the clinic had been stocked. Tashnizi was sitting in a chair in the shade, drinking a beer. The hummer braked, and Sharon threw open the door. She saw the blindfolded girl and shot a questioning look at Pops. He shrugged and aimed a thumb over his shoulder at the Major behind us in the Suburban.

  “I don’t need a wheelchair,” I protested, even though I obviously did need one.

  “You’re my patient now, Virgil. I’ll decide what you need. Now sit.”

  I did as ordered and she started wheeling me down the cargo ramp that led to the first sub-level, ending up at the clinic. Pops walked in shortly after we arrived. I caught his hand as Sharon was gathering medical supplies from the pantry.

  “Pops, don’t let the Major hurt that girl.”

  He patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. The Major is not that kind of person, but if it calms you, I’ll go have a talk with him.”

  I indicated that I wanted him to do just that. He shot a smile at Sharon who shot one right back at him. Then she turned to me and pointed at my bloody trousers.

  “Drop ‘em!”

  ✽✽✽

  Sharon put an IV in my arm and placed a plastic mask over my mouth and nose. I don’t remember a lot after that, but I woke up on a bed in one of the rooms near the clinic. My bloody trousers were gone, and I had on a clean pair of boxer/briefs and a tee shirt. I was covered from the chest down with a sheet, and the lights were off. It was dark. Too dark.

  I moved my wounded leg experimentally and didn’t feel too much pain, so I assumed I had pain meds coursing throughout my system. I knew I should just lay there and heal, but I had already slept until I couldn’t sleep anymore. The door to my room was cracked open, and I slid gently out of bed and hobbled over to it. The light switch was next to the door, and I toggled it up until the room was bathed in a dim glow. I spotted my robe on a hook by the bed and an aluminum cane leaning against the wall under it. Me, being the genius that I am, deduced that the robe and cane were for my use.

  I slipped into the hall, my cane making soft clicks to mark my progress. The hall lights were also on the dim setting, and I was able to make out where I was so I headed to the clinic. I reached the clinic, and the lights were on a little brighter there, so I peeked in.

  The Major was asleep on the exam table, and Emma was sitting in a chair beside him. She saw me looking in and smiled. She held a finger to her lips then pointed at him. I smiled back and nodded.

  The stairway up to the main floor looked like a pretty daunting obstacle to me, but I used my cane and got up on the first one without too much trouble. I counted — only twenty-three more steps to go.

  By the time I reached the top of the stairs my head was beginning to swim, so I took a moment to lean against the wall and regain my strength. The last thing I wanted was to pass out and wake up back where I started.

  The recreation room was empty, no one watching movies. That reinforced my suspicion that it was the middle of the night. My cane and I tapped our way through it and emerged into the kitchen.

  “Oh, crap!”

  Pops and Sharon were sitting at the kitchen table. They both looked up as I entered. Sharon frowned. I was busted.

  I prepared myself for being hustled back downstairs, but Pops rose up and came over to hug me.

  “Hey, son. Feeling better?” He began helping me to a chair.

  “You shouldn’t be up,” Sharon admonished. “And how did you get up those stairs?”

  I pretended not to hear her question and answered Pops’ question instead. “Actually I feel pretty good.” I pointed to my leg. “A little stiff, maybe but not bad. Not bad at all.”

  Sharon put both forearms on the table and leaned over to look me in the eye. “That’s baloney, and you know it. I took a bullet out of your hip less than six hours ago. You’re fortunate by the way. It bruised the hip bone but just missed being deep enough to shatter it. If that had happened, you’d limp for the rest of your life.”

  I gave an exaggerated nod. “Yeah, you know I was just thinking, as I came up those stairs, just how lucky I felt.”

  Pops grinned and gave my shoulder a gentle push. “Don’t be a smart ass.”

  I looked back to Sharon. “All kidding aside, Sharon, thanks for fixing me up. I really do feel much better already. How about the Major? Is he gonna be okay?”

  She nodded with pursed lips. “He got it a little worse than you. The bullet broke two of his ribs, and one of them was right up against his lung. I still don’t know how he kept from piercing it with all the activity he put himself through after being shot.” She smiled and shook her head. “But, I was able to get the ribs pinned, and his wounds closed up. The bullet passed all the way through, which was a blessing.”

  “So. How long is he going to be laid up?”

  “If your father and I can keep him from trying to lead military assaults for a few weeks, I think he’ll be fine. A little tender, but fine.”

  Pops looked at her with raised eyebrows. “So you think the Major is fine, do you?” The statement was an obvious tease.

  “Actually, I think there are a lot of fine men in this house, including this fine young man sitting right here.” She put a hand on my arm, but her eyes had not left Pops’ face.

  I read the room. “Yeah, well, I’m tired, but I don’t want to risk those stairs again, so I’m gonna go to my room up here. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

  I stood to leave, and Pops started to get up too. He offered to help me, but I waved him off. I knew he wanted to be right here as there was definitely something cooking between these two. I headed for the hall and heard a toilet flush in one of the shared bathrooms. A moment later Pepper came out wearing
a light flowered robe which was belted and ended four inches above her knees.

  You would think that a man in my condition, would not be at all aroused by the sight of bare knees but evidently, the hormones of a sixteen-year-old male were easily capable of overcoming something as trivial as two gunshot wounds.

  “Virgil…what are you doing walking around?” She unconsciously pulled her robe tighter about herself.

  I gave myself an extra moment to look at her before replying. “Ah, this is nothing. Sharon says it’s little more than a scratch. Say, you want to sit and talk a while? The common room is free.”

  Pepper grinned slightly, and I realized she was aware of the effect she was having on me. “Yes, I would like to sit and talk, but I spoke to Sharon myself, and she told me just how serious your wounds are. Honestly, Virgil, I don’t know how you’re able even to stand up.”

  I shrugged. “Nothing any other brave wounded combat veteran couldn’t do.”

  Her eyes softened, and she came over and put an arm around my waist. “Well, here, let me help you before you collapse and Sharon has to redo all her work.”

  We made our way slowly to the recreation room but were dismayed to see Dr. Tashnizi in there now. He held a glass of gin in one hand and was digging through our collection of videos. He observed us coming in, and his expression told us we weren’t welcome. I didn’t care.

  “I wanted to watch a movie,” he said with his sneer. Honestly; I forgot how the man even looked without that sneer on his face.

  I grinned as wide as I could manage. “Knock yourself out, Doc. We’re gonna sit here and talk. Hope we’re not too distracting, we have a lot to discuss and Pepper, here, can get pretty loud.”

  Tashnizi took a deep breath and sighed. He returned the video he had selected to the rack and walked out without a word.

  Pepper giggled. “Virgil, that was mean.” She helped me sit.

  “Yeah, well…I don’t like him. He drinks up all the hooch and contributes nothing. Honestly, Pepper, he’s supposed to be here to provide medical treatment, but no one in their right mind would let him touch them, especially now that Sharon is here. He’s a lush.”

  She knew I was right and didn’t bother to refute me. She sat next to me on the big, curved couch and carefully arranged the hem of her robe over her legs. She slipped her hand in mine.

  “Tell me,” she urged, “was it scary? It must have been terrifying. I mean you were shot, Virgil.”

  I started to say something flippant, but I could see the look on her face. She was scared and concerned about me, so I was truthful. “Yeah, it was terrifying. I thought I was going to die, Pepper. I mean I thought I was a dead man.”

  Pepper’s eyes started to brim over, and she put out a hand to touch me on the cheek. She leaned forward and gave me a sweet little kiss. “I think I love you, Virgil.”

  I answered her kiss with one of my own. “I think I love you too.”

  Then my wise guy personality came out. “Matter of fact it was so scary down there that I’m happy someone changed my underwear while I was out cold.”

  Chapter 13

  Lobo and Arturo sat behind a collapsible table as the scout stood there looking uncomfortable. The battle between the army deserters and the hilltop group had generated more than enough noise to get the attention of the Mojado leaders. Arturo had sent out scouts to see what was happening. The spokesman for the group was standing here now, ready to deliver his report but concerned that Lobo might get upset. He tended to take out his frustrations on the messenger.

  Arturo leaned forward on his elbows. “So you’re saying a big bunch of army-looking guys tried to raid a small group of survivors about a mile from here and they got their asses kicked?”

  The messenger was Hezikiah Ramos. His mother was black, and his father was of Mexican heritage. Hezikiah was a third-generation American citizen. Most people who were seeing him for the first time would be unable to tell if he was black or Hispanic. He was tall, handsome and seemed to be in good shape. He joined the Mojados a year before the Rage hit because his choices were to join them or be their victim. He was visibly shaken by what he had just seen on the street.

  “Yeah, Turo. I never seen these guys before, ya’ know? They came in about fifteen pickups following a hummer like the ones we got. They had big machine guns on their trucks, too.” He shifted his eyes to Lobo. “They had lots of people, Boss. At least fifty. They were all over this one part of town with rifles and stuff.”

  Lobo was silent for a few minutes. Arturo watched him, trying to make sure he didn’t want to ask a question, then started to ask his own.

  “So you say they…”

  “Where’d they come from?” Lobo’s interruption came without apology.

  Hezekiah swallowed hard. It was clear that the news of yet another big group of survivors in the area did not make Lobo happy. The veneer of sanity in his boss’ eyes was crumbling, and the craziness was starting to show through.

  “We don’t know that Boss; the fight was going on when we got out there. Whoever they were trying to take on just whipped their ass.” He shrugged. “Their trucks were blown up, most of them, and their machine guns with it. They were comin’ at their target from three different directions, but the other guys managed to get people behind them and take ‘em apart with machine guns and grenades or rockets or something.” He grinned and shook his head. “It was a royal beat down, Boss. The guys in the trucks ran away with only five or six trucks left. They was heading west on Ashlan Avenue last we saw of them.” He shrugged again and put both hands in his pockets.

  Lobo stared at Hezikiah. He was angry about the new group making an incursion into his territory; even more so about the other group being powerful enough to repel such a large and well-armed force. And right now, he was royally pissed that Hezekiah seemed to be impressed by the victors of the fight. Lobo needed all of his people convinced that the Mojados were the biggest, baddest gang out there now.

  Lobo fought down the demon that was fighting for control in his brain. The demon was an old acquaintance of his. It was a source of strength sometimes, but it could quickly get out of hand. When that happened, people got killed. Lobo couldn’t afford to lose any more soldiers, so he pushed the demon back into his mental cage and slammed the door. He wasn’t needed. Not yet.

  The gang leader nodded and sucked in a big breath which he held for a very long time before releasing it loudly. He plastered a false but friendly expression on his face and looked up at Hezekiah. “So, Ramos…could you tell where it was that these new guys were attacking?”

  The scout relaxed a bit upon seeing the expression and was even a bit flattered that Lobo knew his name. “Not exactly, Jefe. There were too many bullets flying around for us to get too close. The best we could tell, they were converging on an area somewhere south of Ashlan, west of Temperance and north of Clinton. We couldn’t get west of the battle, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t reach to Blackstone Avenue.”

  The affable expression on Lobo’s face winked out. “That’s the best you can tell me? What is that, a square mile of possibilities?”

  The abrupt change in Lobo’s attitude shook the scout. Hezekiah fought the trembling he felt in his hands and put them behind his back. “It was like world war three out there, Lobo. I mean bullets were whizzing by our heads as it was. We lost a windshield on our truck from getting as close as we did. Besides, Jefe, where we were it wasn’t clear what they were attacking. There were trucks and other vehicles zooming around on both sides. It’s possible these guys just met up in the street and slugged it out.”

  That hadn’t occurred to Lobo. He didn’t think it very likely, but he had to concede the possibility. He tried for the genial expression again and didn’t quite achieve it. “Okay, thanks, Ramos. You and your boys did a good job, and I want you to tell them that for me.” He leaned forward on the table again and lowered his voice. “But listen, I need you to keep this quiet for now. We need to get our plans in order before w
e let the troops in on everything.”

  “I read you, Boss.”

  Lobo dismissed the scout without asking Arturo if he had any further questions, He did, but the big man let it pass. Arturo was puzzled by Lobo’s admonition to Hezekiah to keep the event quiet. Arturo knew that every one of the troops was already aware that a big battle had happened. The noise was too loud to miss and too long-lasting to mistake it for anything else. Plus, if Hezekiah and the other scouts were like every other man he’d known, they had probably discussed the battle with a dozen or more people before making the report to Lobo.

  The Jefe stood and paced for a moment as he considered these new developments.

  “So, Turo, you think two big groups were just wandering around our turf, met up with each other and then decided to kill each other?”

  “Hey, who knows, Boss? I gotta believe there are a lot of people that survived out there. We can’t be the only ones who holed up and waited for the plague to blow over. I mean, every night you can walk out of the hangar and just listen, you’ll hear plenty of gunshots and lots of engine noises, so it’s possible.”

  Lobo sat again, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. I think it’s far more likely that one of these two factions saw something they wanted in our territory and tried to get it then got their asses whipped for their trouble. But that’s not my main concern right now.” He frowned and gave Arturo a playful punch on the arm. “We can’t have people traipsing through our territory like they own the place. We tagged all the street signs to mark our claim, didn’t we?”

  Turo nodded. “Sure, right after we first left the hangar and started driving around. Trouble is, Boss, most people see our tags as just some random graffiti. If you want to be sure that people know this turf is ours, we need to make up some signs. They should say that passage through our land is not permitted without getting permission and paying a toll. We can have the troops post them up on every major street leading in. Hell, we can paint up the billboards leading into town if you want.”