Project Terminus: Destiny

by Nathan Combs

  Bill made a goofy face, which widened the grin on Stuart’s face, then he poured more water into his glass. “The good news is that we haven’t lost any animals to the snakes for over ten days.”

  Wade said, “Well, that’s encouraging. We can’t snake-proof the entire settlement. I damn sure don’t want to move everyone into the fort because of reptiles.” He looked at Randal, his middle son, an ex-Green Beret captain and clone of his dad. “Search parties?”

  “We’re searching every structure, in every direction. Started on Clewiston yesterday. Best find this week is nineteen twenty-five-pound pails of honey and approximately three tons of vacuum-packed red wheat in fifty-pound buckets. Plus odds and ends, firearms, etcetera.”

  “Good. Chris, how are the crops doing?”

  Chris was Wade’s oldest. Taller than Wade by three inches, he was slender and quiet. Before the collapse, he’d been a world-class sniper for the Milwaukee County, Wisconsin, Sheriff’s Department. Leveling a confident look at his father, he replied, “Well, Dad, I’m a better shooter than I am a farmer, but like everyone else, I’m a quick study.” He grinned. “As of this moment, we have fifty-three acres planted with tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, melons, carrots, pumpkins, squash, strawberries, beans, and peas. The verdict’s still out on corn, wheat, and potatoes, but we put in test beds of each. If they produce, we’ll plant. We’ve also cleaned up six orange groves and isolated several small stands of lime, lemon, avocado, and banana trees. Pineapple plants and aloe grow like weeds. Herbs are doing great. In short, it goes well.”

  Wade asked, “Do you project our food supply to last until the crops come in?”

  “It’ll be close. Worst-case scenario, we eat a lot of fish and gator.”

  Tyler added, “The twenty-three cattle and ten hogs Bill and I rounded up will help, but we need to breed them and grow the herd.”

  Wade nodded, then turned to Maggie. “Medical?”

  “We’re up to speed and have managed to culture penicillin. That’s going to be our only antibiotic for the foreseeable future. We’ve also finished disposing of the human remains in the area. It’s quite possible that we’ll encounter a few skeletons now and then, but for the most part, they’ve all been buried.”

  Wade nodded. “Good. Sara?”

  Sara replied, “Everything’s on schedule, Wade. When the crops are harvested, we’ll be ready to put them up. We’re also performing routine dental work, school is in session, and I’m working on a softball tournament.”

  Like all the women at New Fort Terminus, Chris’s wife Sara was in excellent shape and, according to Bill, because she’d survived six months as Nina’s sex slave, she was the only woman in the world he wouldn’t mess with.

  “Excellent. Cole?”

  The former Delta Force Master Sergeant said, “Tactical training continues. Nothing new.”

  When Rogue informed Horst that Coltrane and his men were in the area, Horst turned bright red and jumped from his desk chair, screaming, “Motherfucker!” The veins in his forehead throbbed. His eyes bulged. He threw his glass of water against the wall, slammed his fist on the desk, and began pacing. He continued screaming and punched the air repeatedly. “Motherfucker! Son-of-a-bitch!”

  Rogue, the Doc, and Ransom stood meekly staring at the floor.

  Although Horst’s tirade seemed to last for an hour, in reality, it had been no more than twenty seconds. Having concluded his verbal assault on Coltrane and someone’s mom, he walked to the window, put his forehead against the grime-encrusted glass, and softly banged his head against it. On the fifth thunk, he stopped, took a deep breath, and turned. His face was bloodless, which made the TL carved into his forehead stand out like blood on snow.

  Ransom giggled.

  Horst was in his face in an instant. “You think this is funny, Ransom?”

  “Yeah. Uh…ah mean no. No. Ah don’t think it’s funny, Horst. I’m skeered. I jess giggle when I’m skeered.”

  “Skeered? I don’t care if you’re scared or not.”

  Ransom’s head nodded at near light speed.

  Horst rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Rogue. “Rogue, get a patrol together. You’re goin’ too, Ransom. I don’t give a shit about Nirvana, but I want confirmation that it was Coltrane’s men you saw. I don’t doubt you, but I need to know for sure.” He broke out a map of the Lake Okeechobee area and studied it for several minutes. Motioning Rogue and Ransom to look at the map, he pointed and double-tapped the paper. “Since those trucks headed west, I’m betting they’re here. Moore Haven. There’s not much cover, so it’s gonna be a real bitch to recon.”

  He traced the routes he wanted Rogue to take with his finger. “Leave your horse here. You’ll have to go in on foot along this canal. Stop by this lock.” He tapped the map for emphasis and looked Rogue in the eye. “Don’t go any closer. You should be able to glass most of the town from that position.” He turned to Ransom and pointed at the map again. “I just want you to watch the road. Stay south of US-27 and stop here. Do not go north of Whidden Corner. If they’re in Moore Haven, they’ll definitely have someone watching the highway into town.” He raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture. “Can you handle that?”

  Ransom’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down furiously as he tried to swallow.

  “Dammit, Ransom, I hate it when you do that.”

  When Ransom managed to swallow, he drew a deep breath. “Yeah, Horst. Ah un’erstand.”

  “Rogue? Any questions?”

  “What if they’re not in Moore Haven?”

  “Good point.” After reexamining the map, he said, “If they’re not in Moore Haven, go west and check out Labelle. If they’re not in either town, come back, and we’ll work up a new game plan.”

  Dismissed, the men filed out of the office.

  Paranoid that Coltrane would suddenly show up, Horst mandated those not working outside should remain inside. The Palm Beach patrol returned, sheepishly admitting they had gotten lost, and after three long, frustrating days, Rogue and Ransom returned.

  Standing before the door to Horst’s office, Ransome turned to Rogue, “Ah, cain’t tell ’im, Rogue, he’ll kill me. You tell ’im.”

  “He ain’t gonna kill you, Ransom. He’ll probably yell and throw shit around, but he won’t hurt you. It’s not your fault they’re there. Horst isn’t stupid, he’s emotional. Relax, I’ll fill him in.”

  Rogue knocked on the door, and Horst yelled, “Come!”

  They entered.

  Horst stood in the center of his office, hands on hips. “Well?”

  When Rogue finished his report, Horst’s worst nightmare was confirmed, and he stared silently at the wall.

  Rogue waited quietly while Ransom fidgeted. After a minute, Ransom said, “Horst?”

  Horst’s face was calm, but his eyes were angry, and like twin lasers, they focused on Ransom’s face. “We were gonna move because of the snakes. Now we gotta do it yesterday. You both know we can’t go up against Coltrane.” He turned to Rogue. “They’re checking for supplies. They’ll be here before long. Find a new location for us. Now.”

  “Where?”

  “North, at least fifty miles. Take those morons from the Palm Beach patrol with you. They returned while you were playing scout.”

  Ransom asked, “Why were they late?”

  “Because they’re dumbasses. Doesn’t matter. Be back in five days max. We’ll be packed and ready to go.”

  “Ya want me to go with him, Horst?”

  “Did I say I wanted you to go with him, Ransom? No, I didn’t. You get every swingin’ dick into the gym so I can brief them.”

  After Rogue and Ransom left, Horst fumed internally. Fuckin’ Coltrane. Goddamn son-of-a-bitch.

  Horst had arrived in Pahokee with 442 men and women but had lost six to gators and pythons and another three to illnes
s and injury. He’d spent countless hours training them in combat and guerilla tactics, and while they would never be confused with Special Forces soldiers, they were adequate. Before they’d departed Savannah, his people had begun referring to themselves as Horstmen, and although that indicated a measure of respect, Horst believed that respect took a back seat to fear.

  An hour later, Horst stood on the stage of the Pahokee High School gym in front of 433 of his Horstmen and broke the news. “You all remember the Special Forces guys who forced us to leave Fort Oglethorpe, right?”

  Some nodded, some said, “yeah,” and others just stared up at him.

  “Well, I hate to tell you, but they’re here too. In a little town called Moore Haven, about fifty miles west. What’s left of Nirvana is with them. They’ll be here soon. We have to relocate. They have armored vehicles and outnumber us ten to one, so we’re not gonna get into a firefight with them. I sent Rogue to find us a new home. He’ll be back in four or five days. I want the crops picked, everything packed, and everyone ready to go.”

  Feet shuffled, mouths hung open, and looks were exchanged, but they didn’t respond.

  Horst had flunked diplomacy class but instinctively knew he had to reassure them. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do. It sucks. But we’ll start again. We didn’t survive this long by being stupid, and we’re not gonna start now.”

  Silence.

  “You don’t want to fight them, do you?”

  Silence.

  Horst screamed, “Well, do you?”

  A chorus of no’s reverberated around the gymnasium.

  “Then there’s nothing else to say. Get after it.”

  As the Horstmen filed out of the gym, Doc turned to Horst. “You can’t blame them for not wanting to leave here.”

  “I don’t blame them, Doc, but after everything that’s happened, you’d think they could deal with unexpected adversity a little better than they do.”

  “What if we tried to make peace with Coltrane?”

  “You don’t know Coltrane. If he finds out we’re here, he’ll exterminate us without a second thought.”

  The staff meeting was nearing an end, and Wade grinned. “Outstanding. Good job, everyone. If there’s nothing else…”

  Stuart said, “Actually, Wade, there is.”

  The worried look on Stuart’s face as he stood wasn’t lost on Wade, nor the emphasis he placed on the word is.

  “You have the floor, Stu.”

  “I’ll start with the weather. We have an ice age in Tennessee and even though it’s February, the weather here is abnormally hot and humid. It’s impossible to know what effect the climate will have going forward, but I’m positive the storm we just experienced was tropical in nature, which is unheard of for this time of year. We’re in the process of hooking up weather radar that we requisitioned from West Palm, but it will be a while before that’s operational. As far as power goes, we’ve started the installation of new wind turbines and solar panels to keep up with the increased demand.”

  He paused and looked around the table at each face. “As you all know, between the plague, the nukes, and anarchy, humanity has been decimated. We finished hooking up a state-of-the-art antenna to the HAM system yesterday, and last night we received confirmation of survivors in other parts of the world. The reception was sporadic at best, and the stats are nothing more than guesstimates, but as it stands right now, England has roughly 4,000 survivors; Russia, about 3,000; Guatemala, less than 2,000; and Mexico, perhaps 10,000. I’m not certain, but it appears there are survivors in China, which I’ll touch on momentarily. Keep in mind that the figures I just gave you are guesstimates. Obviously, we have no way of knowing how accurate they are. There are no reports from the Far East, Africa, the Middle East, or from Australia.”

  He looked each person in the eye before continuing. “This is where it gets interesting. Remember the Texas group we talked to when we were at Fort Hope?”

  Everyone nodded.

  Stuart nodded back. “Yeah, well, last night, we monitored them attempting to communicate with someone in China. The Chinese transmission was weak and drifted in and out. Plus, their English was difficult to understand.” He exhaled. “About two hours ago, they—the Texas group—transmitted blindly to any station listening, and I answered. They didn’t realize they’d talked to us seven months ago when we were at Fort Hope. Doesn’t sound like they were up-front.”

  Wade said, “Explain.”

  Stuart took a sip of water, raised his eyebrows, cocked his head, and then finally said, “Well, for starters, they’re now saying they have over 10,000 people and are calling themselves Texas Nation. It’s the same group, or at least the same guy. He has a blustery delivery and even more distinctive speech patterns. Sounds exactly like Rush Limbaugh.”

  Bill broke in. “Why do I think I’m not gonna like this?”

  Wade nodded, and his eyes narrowed. “Right. How do you go from 1,500 people to 10,000 in half a year? I assume we didn’t give him any useful information?”

  Stuart sat, leaned back, grinned, and clasped his hands behind his head. “I told him that we were a group of 500, but that we were struggling. The guy’s name is David McNulty. He talks the talk. Says all the right things. They could help us but can’t send assistance if they don’t know where we are. He asked three different times, in different ways, exactly where we’re located.”

  “And we told him what?”

  “We’re in the Sebring-Lake Placid area.”

  “Are they still in Corpus?”

  “So he says.”

  Bill muttered, “Lock and load.”

  Wade stared at the map, lost in thought.

  The staff waited.

  He stood. “Randal, you’re going to Texas. Bill, post a rotating watch in Sebring in case they send someone looking for us.” He turned to Stuart. “Stu, you talk to this…McNulty, is it?”

  Stu nodded.

  “Find out how they’re governed, who their leader is, what type of power sources they have, and if they’re mechanized. Be subtle and act ignorant.”

  Stuart nodded.

  Wade stood. “Anything else?”

  There was not.

  “Tomorrow. 0800.”

  The meeting adjourned, and everyone headed back to his or her duties while Wade and Bill strolled back to their homes.

  Bill was unnaturally silent.

  “Out with it, Bill.”

  Bill hesitated, stopped walking, turned to face Wade, and looked him in the eye. “What we were talking about before the meeting?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t like the sound of this shit at all. My gut tells me this is goin’ south, and it’s goin’ south fast. If I’m right, fuck civility and its asshole cousin, the rule of law.”

  Wade kept walking as if he hadn’t heard.

  Bill grasped Wade’s arm and both men stopped. “Dammit, Wade. I respect you more than any man I’ve ever known, but I’m telling you, if this deteriorates into a confrontation, we can’t risk losing even one person. You said humanity has come too far to reject civility and the rule of law, and I’m telling you we’ve come too far to adhere to it. Tell me, you agree.”

  “I don’t disagree, Bill. Let’s see how it plays out.”

  Chapter Five

  Texas Nation

  At 0800 hours the next morning, the staff was seated, coffee in hand, and Wade asked Stuart to bring them up to date on Texas Nation.

  Standing, Stuart said, “McNulty’s a conman. He’s politically smooth. He never answered my questions directly. Just tap-danced around them, changed the subject, or turned my questions into questions of his own. Other than acknowledging they had 10,000 people—for over a year, mind you—and admitting they had vehicles, I couldn’t get much out of him.”

  “Nothing on their fo
rm of government?”

  “Sorry, Wade. It was obvious he wasn’t being honest, and I could have called him on it, but I thought it best to let him think we were ignorant for the moment.”

  Wade nodded, then looked around the table. “Bill?”

  “Guy’s a douchebag.”

  “Randal.”

  Randal stood and walked to the wall map of the United States that hung between maps of Florida and Moore Haven. “We know the guy’s lying. The question is why? Until we find out differently, they’re a potential threat, but we can’t determine the threat level until we know more about them. Obviously, we’re not getting that intel over the radio. I’m taking Tyler and four rangers. We’ll head out as soon as we’re done here.” He picked up a map pointer and indicated the route from Moore Haven to Corpus Christi. “It’d be shorter to go across the gulf, and quicker too, but there are too many storms rolling through to risk it. It’s 1,300 miles to Corpus. We can do that in about two weeks. A couple of days checking them out and two weeks back. We should return around the first of April.”

  He walked back to his seat but remained standing. “We’ll wear civvies for obvious reasons, provide satellite phone updates as necessary, and a daily recap at 2400 hours. If the shit hits the fan, at least one of us will return to report. Did I miss anything?”

  Wade said, “I suggest you take backup sat phones and spare mounts.”

  “That’s being taken care of.”

  Wade nodded approval, then asked if anyone had anything to add. No one did, and he stood and said, “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  The faces of the men and women were somber as their chairs moved back and they stood, then filed out.