Uprising

by Chris Harris

  Fen took a minute to interpret the map and then pointed at an area. “They are stored in the refrigerated area of the hospital morgue,” she admitted.

  “Thank you, Agent Shu,” Tanner said as she tried not to crow with victory. “How many doses are stored there?”

  “There are many thousands,” Fen Shu said, “but that does not matter; you only need one for my brother.”

  Madeline glanced at Sebastian who was looking at the map. He turned and had a quiet conversation with some others before looking at Madeline and, nodding his head, gave her the thumbs-up. That was the signal she was looking for. They knew where the antidotes were and reckoned they could get them.

  The look on Madeline’s face changed from one of sympathetic understanding to one of pure venom and hatred. She turned to Fen Shu and slapped her hard around the face. Two men who had been standing ready stepped forward and grabbed her arms as she reeled from the shock of being hit.

  “Did you really think we had found your brother?” she spat. “If we had, though, and if he was infected, I can personally guarantee you would have met him. You would be tied to a chair with your eyes glued open, so you did not miss a second of the suffering he would be going through. You would sit there and watch him die and then maybe, just maybe, you’d realize what thousands of Americans are doing right now as their children and loved ones lie dying from what you have released.” She leaned back away from the horrified Chinese woman.

  “And anyway,” she went on in a calmer voice, “you better hope you are telling me the truth. That blanket you are sitting on in your stinking hole of a cell came from one of the camps. I think you will be the first person we test the antidote on, just to make sure it isn’t another lie.”

  Fen Shu slowly began to comprehend that she had been duped. Fear spread over her face at the thought she had been in touch with a contaminated blanket, and then it dawned on her. She had been lied to about her brother. They had not found him. He wasn’t ill. In fact, they didn’t even know if he was alive at all.

  She flew into a rage. The men could barely hold her as she fought against them, kicking and screaming like a possessed cat caught by animal control. She bucked and reared like a wild animal, snapping her teeth at the men struggling to restrain her as they tried to get her on the ground and reattach the shackles that had bound her hands and legs. When she was secured, Madeline crouched down and stared into her face that was contorted with the madness running through her brain.

  “Did you really think you were going to win? We will destroy everyone that has tried to take our country from us.”

  She laughed in her face. Fen Shu stopped struggling and spat at the president with a look of hateful satisfaction at her empty gesture. Madeline leaned away with her eyes closed as she produced a handkerchief from a pocket to wipe away the spittle.

  “Don’t worry,” she crooned menacingly, “I plan to keep you alive long enough to witness the utter ruin that will befall your pathetic nation. The shame you will feel, knowing it is all your fault as your country falls apart is something I cannot begin to imagine. Take her back to her cell please, gentlemen.”

  She deliberately turned her back as Fen Shu was dragged away.

  Sebastian approached her. “That was excellent work, Madam President. We’re just finishing off the plans for attacking the missile command center and then we will get straight on to the best way to retrieve the antidotes.”

  “As she was talking, Sebastian, I could not help but think she could still be of use to us. She has the authority to go wherever she wants. We have General Liu’s car, why don’t we just try and use it and con our way in? Why fight our way in when we could just walk straight through the front door?”

  Sebastian looked shocked at the simplicity of the plan. He thought for a few seconds and then smiled. “And you tell me you are no military leader, ma’am? That plan is genius, but I think it would be hard to get her to comply. Why don’t we see if the general will help us? Sergeant Cho has already told us they had no problem getting through the roadblocks when he fled the city. I imagine in the chaos we caused getting you out, the news of the general’s arrest will hopefully not have been widely broadcast.”

  He paused to give it more thought. “With just the two of them, we are risking little,” he said. “They could be ready to go immediately. Can I suggest we both go and have a word with the general?”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Seven

  Marissa stood along with all the women and children she had been incarcerated with in the inner yard of the prison. They had woken up to find all the guards had disappeared overnight. Unsure of what to do they had waited. Unable to see over the walls, they had no idea what was happening. Rumors ran through the group of terrified women like wildfire. When the firing had first been heard in the distance, they all panicked and, fearing they may be attacked, sought places to hide. After hours with nothing happening, they slowly reemerged and gathered together.

  Braving the wrath of guards they fully expected to appear again at any minute, they banged on the high steel main gates of the prison, attempting to get the attention of anyone, but to no avail. They were trapped in a prison that by design made it impossible, without any equipment or tools, to escape from.

  Weak from the terrible diet and conditions they were forced to endure, with most of them worried and fearful for their loved ones they had forcibly separated from, the general mood was of helplessness and despondency. Marissa had luckily escaped what some of the women had endured. The younger, prettier ones had often been dragged screaming from the others. A few brave women, including Marissa, had been beaten when they tried to intervene.

  Most of them returned hours later, beaten and broken from their ordeal. Some, ominously, did not. The commander of the camp took great delight in continually informing them in broken English they were now the possessions of the army of the People’s Republic of China, and as such should be proud to be able to offer themselves as recreational items to the conquering, victorious soldiers.

  Two women who had, at the beginning, fought against their captors so viciously and desperately that one soldier was killed, had been made an example of. They were forced to watch as the two women were brutalized and beaten by a mob of willing Chinese soldiers. More dead than alive, they were then hung from some hastily erected gallows and left as a reminder of what the price of non-cooperation was.

  Suicide had unfortunately become commonplace, as some, unable to cope with what they were being forced to do, chose to end their own lives rather than allow themselves to be used in such a cruel and barbaric fashion.

  Toby and Harris, escorted by Captain Troy and four of his soldiers, approached the gates in the high climb-proof mesh outer fence of the prison. They had studied the place from cover nearby until they were satisfied that it too had been abandoned by the Chinese.

  The other soldiers, without being ordered, spread out in a defensive cordon around them.

  The gate was secured by a padlock which yielded easily to the bolt croppers Troy took from his pack. With the escorting soldiers scanning everywhere through the sights of their rifles they cautiously approached and inspected the main gate. It was made from solid steel with no visible locking mechanism.

  Troy turned to one of the soldiers and pointed to the gate. “Dillon, if you wouldn’t mind, please.”

  Dillon nodded and approached the gate, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he ran his hands across its smooth surface. “No problem, sir. I’ll have that open in no time. Couple of charges in the right place should crack it open.”

  Shrugging out of his pack he reached inside and retrieved the last few blocks of high explosives he had been carrying since they had resupplied at White Sulphur Springs. Troy walked back a safe distance.

  Dillon attached, placed, and molded the soft compound around several places on the gate and inserted the detonators. Trailing wires from them he indicated for everyone to stand clear.

  As soon as everyon
e moved to the side and pressed themselves against the high walls of the prison, he pressed the button on the box he held in his hand. The crack of explosives detonating was followed by the screeching and groaning of stressed metal, and one leaf of the gate slowly sagged forwards and came crashing down raising a cloud of dust.

  “Good job, Dillon,” said Troy as he slapped him on the back. Indicating for Toby and Harris to hang back he led the men through the dust and smoke and entered the prison.

  The women inside were completely unaware of what was happening until the sharp crack of the explosives shocked them into activity. Screaming and shouting from the fright, they all ran to the far end of the yard and cowered staring into the impenetrable dust and smoke cloud that had been thrown up. Mothers covered their children with their own bodies. Marissa crouched near the front of the group, her arm protectively over a few near-hysterical women.

  “Someone’s coming. RUN!” screamed a voice as Marissa saw figures emerging through the dust cloud.

  A figure in uniform, his face hidden behind his raised weapon approached, his rifle pointing all around as he scanned for threats. More figures silently emerged behind him.

  “Marissa!” called a voice. Marissa’s head snapped up, her mind trying to work out if she had really heard her name being called. Another voice began calling her name, a voice she recognized.

  It couldn’t be, though. They had never been far from her mind, but knowing her position was hopeless, she had given up all hope of ever seeing them again.

  “Toby?” she shouted, raising herself up, her eyes searching everywhere.

  Through the settling dust she made out the shapes of two more figures, this time running in her direction. She began sobbing uncontrollably as they ran into her embrace, her legs giving way as she knew her ordeal was over.

  Emotions changed from fear to elation as they saw the faces of the soldiers were not Asian, but Caucasian, black, and Hispanic. And the badges on their arms were not the hated red with gold stars of their imprisoners and torturers but the stars and stripes of the country they had thought was no more.

  As one they surged forwards and mobbed the men, every single one of them wanting to touch or have contact with their saviors. It took some time for calm to be restored and for Troy to be able to talk to the women.

  He gave them a frank update on the wider news about how the resistance movements were beginning to get organized. Knowing that the president had been released, and how, and that other nations were helping gave everyone a psychological boost. As a country they were not alone. The propaganda continually broadcast through loud speakers telling them that as a nation they were defeated, and all other countries were quaking in fear of Chinese power and refusing to get involved had always been treated with suspicion, but as time passed, they could not deny that there must be an element of truth to them.

  Why else would they be treated as they were? If China had any fear of reprisal, they would never be acting with the callous impunity they were. As Troy talked, he could see hope building up once again in the faces of the women.

  He gave them two choices. They could make their way to the towns and villages they knew were clear of Chinese forces where they would be made welcome and accommodated the best they could, or they could return to their base at Holly River. He made no bones about the rough conditions at the camp, but he promised them security and safety there.

  Most of the women were locals. Knowing now that their husbands possibly had been in the other camp and could be amongst those who escaped, they did not want to leave, but go and try to find them. They knew they could not return to Caldwell itself, but if they remained in the local area, then there was a chance they would be reunited.

  Leaders emerged from amongst them and they began organizing the women into groups. All the local women wanted to stay and go to the nearest Chinese free areas. Those whose husbands might still be alive chose to stay, whereas the others decided to return to Holly River with Troy and his men.

  Troy asked for volunteers from amongst his men to stay with the first group and escort them to their destination. They all volunteered so he ended up picking them himself. Marissa obviously wanted to go wherever Harris and Toby were going. She had no idea if any of her family was still alive and she had no way of reaching them. Toby had told her of their plan to get to his uncle, Fat Joe, in California. They had both promised her they would never let her out of their sight again and insisted that when they had gained their strength, they would begin their journey west.

  He sent a runner to recall the soldiers he had dispatched to keep an eye on Caldwell. They reported very little activity. Patrols had restarted after they had shot and killed the two men they had witnessed entering the town. They had been forced to watch impotently, as again the same patrols found the latest escapees from the camp. As before no quarter was given and they had been annihilated by the Chinese.

  Troy desperately wanted to organize an attack on the base. He knew that with the force he had with him now, even though they would not be able to destroy it, they could perform enough mischief to force the Chinese to keep on lock down as they were and dissuade them from venturing further afield.

  Reluctantly he knew it would have to wait for another day. His priority was to those they had freed, to ensure they got somewhere safe. There was little point in delaying further. He had a final word with the men who were staying to escort the locals. They had studied maps and worked out the best routes to take across the heavily forested hills and valleys, avoiding areas of population until they knew they were in a ‘free’ zone. His soldiers were instructed to make sure the women and children were safe and being cared for before making their own way back to the base, gathering intelligence and only attacking enemy forces if they could guarantee complete success. The last thing they would want is a pursuing force of Chinese endangering any civilians or following their trail back to the base.

  Troy led half his men and thirty women and children through the woods to where they had hidden the trucks. Harris and Marissa supported Toby between them and they all set off back to Holly River.

  Sitting in the lead truck Troy noticed many more vehicles, including a yellow school bus with Chinese markings stenciled on it, had arrived in his absence.

  “It looks as if some of the militias have arrived,” he said to the sergeant driving. “If you let me out here, can you see to the passengers please.”

  As he stepped from the truck a man stared at him, detached himself from the group he was talking to, and approached. Recognition flashed across Troy’s face. It was the Englishman he had sent into Caldwell. He held out his hand and both smiling they shook hands. “Mister Calhoun, I never thought I’d get the chance see you again and thank you for all you did. The intel you sent was invaluable.”

  “It was nothing,” Cal said in his self-effacing British manner. “It was the least I could do, those bastards needed to pay for killing Louise.” He swallowed, pushing back down the lump in his throat. “They told me you’d be back soon after you had persuaded them to let you return to the camp. Tell me, how was it?”

  “The men’s camp was empty apart from two who stayed. They remembered you. You gave one of them some peanut butter. They reckon you saved his life. We did, though, free the women from the prison. Some of them have come back with us.”

  “Ah yes, I remember them. They were asking about a friend of theirs. Melanie or something?”

  “Marissa is her name and if you go to the trucks, they should all be getting out now. Anyway, how the hell did you end up here?”

  “Long story. The short version is I was on my way home, being driven in that yellow bus over there to a port where a ship was waiting, when the missiles started flying overhead and our guards ran away. I decided that it would be safer to try and find you, so we turned around and headed here. We almost got shot up by Reverend Harris and the Appalachian militia—the fact I mentioned your name helped them believe our story. They let us join them and led us
the rest of the way. And so here I am.”

  “Well I’m glad you are here too. Now if you would excuse me I need to report to the senator and then I believe we are having a war council.”

  “I know, I’m invited too. A fellow Brit and I have volunteered to join up.”

  Troy smiled broadly and slapped him hard on the back. “We’d be glad to have you.” He then turned and walked toward the cabin.

  Cal looked at the trucks and recognized the big man who was helping another much thinner man from the back of one. A woman stood next to them, assisting as she too helped him climb down. He walked over to them.

  “Hello,” he said. “I’m glad you are okay; do you remember me?”

  Harris and Toby both looked at him, recognizing him immediately. Toby shook his hand. “You’re that British dude who helped me in the camp. How could I forget you, I reckon you saved my life, risking giving me the peanut butter. Thank you, man, thank you.”

  Cal turned to Marissa. “Troy tells me you were the one they asked me to help find. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more, but they evacuated me before I could search the database we were building up.”

  Marissa gave Cal a hug. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think it would have done any good anyway. The bastards were not interested in cataloguing the women; they treated us as disposable goods, not interested in who we were or where we came from. Toby and Harris told me about the kind Englishman who gave him some food. For that one act of kindness you have my eternal thanks.”

  Gordon approached and Cal introduced him and explained how they had met. Handshakes were exchanged all round and Gordon’s upper-crust charm and mannerisms soon had the Americans laughing.

  He pointed to a pile of camping gear that had been requisitioned from a local outdoor supplies shop. “Anyway, my first official job as the British Ambassador to the American resistance is to allocate suitable accommodation to the latest arrivals. As you all know each other could I suggest you get yourselves a suitable tent sorted and get it pitched. Make sure it has room for me too, please,” he said as he began to walk off.