Virgil's War- The Diseased World

by Larry Robbins

  Out in the courtyard, I joined Buck, Isaac, Dee, and Marcus by the east gate. We always left through that portal when we were sneaking out of Dragon’s Lair. We would follow a natural path eastward until it banked north about a hundred and fifty yards behind the compound. Today we were in our Jeep, pulling a small trailer loaded, with food, water, sleeping bags, and ammunition. We might be out there for several days, so we were going prepared. We would always have radio communication with the mansion so, if we ran out of something or forgot something vital, it could be brought out to us.

  The fuel pumps were about a quarter mile northeast of the towers, and we passed by them and continued on for another quarter mile before Buck squealed the brakes. The Jeep had no door on it, so he quickly stepped out and surveyed the surrounding topography. He seemed to be making a few considerations then he nodded to himself sub-consciously.

  “Yeah, this will do.”

  The place he had decided upon us staking out was a shallow basin in the surrounding hills and knolls. There was one hill that was taller than any others around us, and I assumed that would be my new home for the next few days. This particular patch of land was unusual due to the lack of tree cover except where we were now standing. Everything out to our north and east was bare of foliage and mostly devoid of anything high enough to hide behind. We would also own the high ground and control what little cover there was. Buck knew his craft.

  As I expected, he sent the Jeep and me to the top of the high hill and gave me instructions to make liberal use of the shovel in the back.

  “Once you get a good hole dug for yourself, you can start digging one for the rest of us. You never know, we might find ourselves pushed back and having to make a stand on that hill. Next to the shovel, you’ll find a pile of canvas bags. Feel free to start filling them up and piling them around the holes. That should keep you busy while we do the real work.”

  I took the Jeep and parked it on the far side of the hill so it wouldn’t be visible to our expected raiders, then I swallowed three pain pills from the bottle I got from Sharon and set about digging.

  Buck had one walkie, and he had given me a second one. I heard him when he reported in to Pops and the Major using code words so anyone overhearing them wouldn’t be able to decipher his information. There had been no other arrivals near the main gate or in any other locations so far.

  I shoveled until my wounds started hurting again before I checked the time. I was surprised to see I’d been humping for five hours. I checked the horizon as I popped a few more pills. It was almost seven p.m., and the sun was sneaking away. I was grateful that the weather was pleasant. Autumn was always one of the best times in the Clovis area when the brutal summer heat was pushed aside by the cooler temperatures. I looked out over the surrounding countryside, and it reminded why it was that Pops and I had settled on buying here. It was gorgeous country with rolling green hills and huge rocks which were so pretty it looked like they’d been placed there by commercial landscapers.

  I scanned the area to the south and was just able to see the top of one of the tower spires at Dragon’s Lair. If one didn’t know what to look for, it would probably have been unidentifiable. The fuel depot was also hidden from view behind a row of knolls.

  At my feet were five holes. One, the one in back of where I had set up my SAW, was longer and deeper than the other four. I checked my hands and found them free of blisters, a result of employing the gloves that I always kept packed in my bug-out-bag, along with many other indispensable items. I checked the dish-shaped glen below my hill and could only see Dee down there. She was hidden from view by anyone to the north or east, but I was able to make out her long form as she sat with her M4 in both hands between two oval-shaped rocks.

  “Fresh Prince, you copy?”

  It was Buck’s voice I heard in my earphone. I stared at the walkie for a moment, waiting to hear a response from whoever he had just called. Nobody answered.

  “Fresh Prince, away on high, copy?”

  I got it, then. We had taken our positions without coming up with call signs for the individuals in our team. The name was Buck’s way of calling me without using my name. I shook my head at the moniker and keyed the walkie. “Ball Sac, this is Fresh Prince, send your message.”

  I could hear Dee forgetting military protocol and laughing out loud from her hiding place in the quiet of the near evening.

  There was a half second in which Buck got control of himself before he replied. “Everything looks good out west toward Clovis. Nothing to report. Coming in.”

  I frowned as I tried to decipher the message and, at first, couldn’t figure it out. Then I observed Buck trotting toward me from a stand of trees to the east of my location. I waited until he slid into the hole next to me.

  I grinned innocently. “I’m guessing that was a fake-out to whoever is listening, making them think you’re reporting from the area overlooking the west?”

  He didn’t reply to my question at first, just fixed me with a glare. “Really? Ball Sac?”

  I shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting us to use call signs; it was the first thing that came to mind.”

  “Oh, that was the first thing you thought of for me, huh?” He hung onto the stern look for as long as he could manage, then gave me a playful punch to the shoulder and laughed. “I’m gonna grab a couple of extra batteries for the night vision gear and run them out to our team. You got yours?”

  I held up my goggles. Pops had spent a lot of money on night vision equipment. He started out only purchasing two sets of NVGs, one for him and one for me. After they arrived, though, we took them out at night and played with them, and he realized the huge advantage they offered if one was forced to defend oneself at night. Since he was already thinking about collecting a group on Dragon’s Lair, he placed an order for a dozen more goggles and six rifle sights with a combination of infrared and thermal imaging capability. I had one of those combination sights installed on my M-240 and Buck had another on the Springfield Armory M1A, .308 rifle he was carrying.

  “Remember all of our people have fireflies in their hats,” Buck said Try not to shoot any good guys.”

  “I’ll try. Just don’t lose your hat.”

  Buck laughed again and snuck his way back across the bowl-shaped depression below my hill. I could barely see him in the waning light as he stopped at the locations of each of our team members to drop off the extra batteries.

  When Buck mentioned ‘fireflies’ he was talking about the small infrared devices that flashed every ten seconds. The flash could only be seen by night vision equipment, and this would allow us to avoid a friendly fire event. Through my sights and the NVGs, the hat of anyone wearing a firefly would flash brightly. The danger of using such a thing was the possibility of one’s enemy also having infrared capability. We were taking a chance, but Buck had deemed it justified.

  Now that darkness was folding around us I snapped my goggles down and switched them on. I immediately noticed four sets of flashing purple lights arrayed below me. Buck had used his extensive experience to make sure he covered things like overlapping fields of fire, and other military concerns when he chose the locations for our team members.

  I switched my gaze to the north and was impressed at the bright view of my surroundings that the goggles afforded me. The image was crisp and clear out to about a hundred yards before it began to lose clarity.

  I snapped the goggles up and was amazed at the difference in my vision. Without the electronic enhancement, the area around me was now almost black. I found the switch on my M-240 for the fancy combination sight and triggered it. With both eyes on the rubber-cushioned automated vision array, I could see with almost the same clarity as the goggles, but where the NVGs lost clearness at a hundred yards, the expensive combination sight added another fifty yards or so. I felt for the toggle on the side of the device without taking my eyes away. I found it and flipped it up. Immediately the view through the lens changed from brightly lit to darkness again.
But it wasn’t entirely dark. Aiming the barrel out toward where I knew our team was hiding I could see four bright, white silhouettes. The body heat from our people was being detected by the thermal imaging capability of the sight.

  I caught movement behind the tree line and swung the M-240 in that direction. The glowing signatures of a large sow and three piglets could be seen rooting in the dirt for roots and berries. They were very close to Isaac’s position, so I pressed the button on my walkie after deciding upon an appropriate call sign for the big Army Ranger.

  “Bigfoot, Fresh Prince.”

  He responded immediately. “Go for bigfoot.”

  “Family of pigs close to your north.” I didn’t want Isaac hearing the sounds of the hogs rooting and thinking it was the enemy sneaking up on him.

  “Roger that, Prince. Thanks for the info.”

  My earphone was only silent for a few seconds before I heard Pops’ voice. “All stations, we have vehicles approaching the main gate.”

  Chapter 23

  Arturo was in the passenger seat of the stolen Army Humvee, and he turned to see Lobo behind the wheel. The Segundo had been watching the streets pass by as they headed toward the entrance to the hilltop stronghold.

  “Jefe, you seeing what I’m seeing?”

  Lobo had a set of earphones on his head and didn’t hear him the first time, so Arturo had to give his shoulder a nudge. That action produced a frown from the slight leader of the Mojados. He yanked the earphones down, and Arturo could hear a string of profane rap music blaring from them. He briefly wondered how his boss wasn’t deaf from the volume.

  “What is it, Turo?”

  The bigger man pointed outside the side window. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

  Lobo stretched his neck over to look out Arturo’s side. “What? It’s so dark I can’t see nothin’.”

  They passed a lump on the side of a ditch, and Arturo pointed again. “There’s another one. Boss, we been passing dead bodies left and right. From the condition of their clothing, it looks like dead Ragers.”

  The frown deepened on Lobo’s face. “So what? We’ve been killing them every chance we get. Other survivors are likely doing the same. What’s got your panties in a bunch?”

  With no small amount of effort, the big gang banger shifted his bulk around in the little seat so he could face his leader more directly. “I’ve been watching. I’m seeing more and more dead ones every day. I think they’re dying off, Jefe.”

  Lobo made a show of closely examining his friend’s face. “So? That’s a good thing.”

  “Lobo, if the infected are starting to drop dead that means the world is changing again, right? People can leave their hideouts in the evenings, work fields and plant food without the worry of attracting the packs. Maybe we can get back to a semblance of normalcy again.”

  “There you go again, Turo,” the little man said while wagging his index finger in Arturo’s direction. “Semblance of normalcy?” He shook his head and looked back at the road, continuing to talk as he drove. “You’re smart, yet you go out of your way to hide it, Turo. But we can discuss all that stuff later, man. We got bitches to burn, and I can’t wait to see those two big guys we saw at the gate. I’m gonna have ‘em kneel at my feet and watch me as I cut the throats of their women and kids.”

  Lobo’s morbid fantasies put a pall over Arturo’s desire to talk anymore. He remained silent until they got to the gate on Academy. Arlo’s people were already there.

  The gate had been pulled away using chains and winches. There had been no need for that since they swung fully open once they cut the padlock, but no one pointed this out. The big Stryker truck was there, idling on the side of the road. Arlo was yelling at a woman who was perched in the turret of the big vehicle, telling her to turn the engine off and stop wasting fuel. He spotted the two gangsters and walked over shaking his head.

  “We don’t have that much diesel left, and they’re burning it up for no reason.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Dragon’s Lair. “We should have them pinned in now. I have a team sneaking up on them from the north, and I’m sending out a patrol to the south in case they try to slip out that way.” He turned to look at the paved two-lane driveway leading up the hill. “I wish they would try to break out right here. Between the two fifties on the Stryker and my rocket launchers, we’d have us a big-time slaughter.”

  Arturo unconsciously shook his head as he considered the man’s words.

  Arlo caught the movement and put his hands on his hips. “What? You got something to say?”

  “No, man, I…I just…” Arturo stammered, surprised that his actions had betrayed his thoughts. “I was just thinking that these guys have never yet done what we expected them to do. In our last meeting, your new plan is to lay in a siege and hit them with probing attacks, right?”

  The ex-officer nodded.

  “Well, that might work, I’m not saying it won’t. Your thoughts were that the Hilltop people would be so alarmed by being attacked from several directions over the next couple of days they would decide to flee. You said they would abandon their stronghold and run for their lives.”

  “Your point?” The anger on Arlo’s face was morphing into fury.

  “Well…and I’m only thinking out loud here, okay? You said they could only have gathered up just so much food, water, and ammunition since the world went crazy and they would eventually run low, right?” When the ex-officer refused to reply, Arturo pushed on. “Yet, and I say this with all respect, we don’t really know that to be a fact. We have no idea when they started preparing, what resources they had to draw upon or how long they could hold out in a siege. Most of the ranches in this area have wells with pumps so water shouldn’t be a problem for them. A lot of them grow their own food and have cattle and swine that can be butchered. Who knows how long they could hold out?” The big man bunched his shoulders. “Just sayin’.”

  “And what’s your plan?” Arlo demanded. “Just go charging in like your boss did and losing forty people? We’re in no hurry here. That was our worst mistake when this all first happened. We were pissed off and wanting payback, so we let our emotions overrule our heads. I say we take a few days to study these guys. Their resources have to be limited; they just didn’t have time to gather enough supplies to resist a full-on attack from a trained force.”

  Arlo shunted his eyes to where Lobo was leaning up against his Humvee. He wondered why the little man was letting his second-in-command do all the talking. The gang leader had his hands clasped in front of himself with his lips pursed. But he wasn’t as disinterested as he was trying to appear. Arlo recognized the suspicious expression on his face. The Jefe of the Mojados was watching his man, evaluating him. The former Lieutenant suspected the bond between the two men was fraying.

  Turo held both hands up at shoulder height, trying to de-escalate the situation. “Look, Lieutenant…I’m just spit-ballin’ here, trying to figure all this out. I was never in the military, and I realize this is kind of like a military problem. But you asked me what my plan was? How about we just go at this from a completely different direction?”

  Arturo turned so he could see both Arlo and Lobo. The gang leader dropped his pose of casual disinterest and folded his arms over his chest. The big man took a deep breath and held it before slowly letting the air bleed out from his lungs. The action did very little to relieve the tension he was experiencing. The Segundo knew he was stepping into dangerous territory with what he was about to suggest, but knew he had to do it anyway. The gang Segundo still had two little girls back at the hangar and an old lady he cared about.

  Arlo made a circular gesture with one hand in a gesture for Arturo to explain himself. The younger soldier, Barrett, came walking up, wiping dirt from his hands onto his trousers.

  “What’s going on?” the Sergeant asked.

  “Our military genius is going to enlighten us on how to resolve our problem with the Hilltop group,” Arlo said with a sne
er.

  “Hey, man…you asked me, and I’m answering you,” Arturo responded. He was quickly losing patience with the man. “Now, like I said, this is coming at it from a different place. I’m not military trained but I know one thing; even if we are successful and take this place, people are gonna die. Ours and theirs.”

  The big gang banger squared his shoulders and took another deep breath. He was committed now. He pointed to Lobo. “Jefe, you want a life in which we control everything, the people, the food, the liquor…everything. I can get behind that but…does it have to be here? Yeah, we were mostly all raised here, but we can do our thing anywhere. There’s nothing stopping us from picking up and moving anywhere we want to go. If we did that tomorrow we would be going in full force, not losing anyone in this fight. We can build up our numbers in the new location and never even have to worry about these guys again.” He pointed in the direction of Dragon’s Lair.

  “And you, Lieutenant. You already said your people do best when you are moving from place to place, never staying long. You can be two hundred miles away from here in one day. You can save the lives of a lot of your people by just moving on. The people on that hill up there would never find you; they’ll be busy here for years trying to get civilization going again.”

  Arturo sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “Guys, our power, our strength comes from the number of people who follow us. When we lose people, we lose power. This fight, against these people, will cost us a lot of lives and it doesn’t have to happen. We can just walk away and let them have this town.” He shrugged.

  Lobo was silent for an uncomfortable time. When he finally spoke, he said every word with a smile that never reached his eyes. “That’s your plan, Turo? You make the decisions now? Hey, you want to run? There’s the road, bitch.” He pointed at the paved avenue.