Stryker: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale
Page 18
“What are we going to do?” Erin asked.
“I don’t know. Give me a second.” She watched him as he closed his eyes and said nothing for close to a minute. When he opened his eyes, she saw a grim look that replaced the look of fear.
“I guess we know now where the plague came from. There’s no way that many of them could survive unless they were vaccinated or knew what was coming and hunkered down in some remote region.”
“What do you think they want?” Erin asked.
“Our country. Who wouldn’t want it?” He paused, again looked at the scene below them, then said, “They must want to move west from here. It’s going to take two days to unload here and they could have done it in a day in Houston. So they must be trading time for distance to their destination.”
“Where do you think they’re going?”
“No idea, but west of here.”
“Just let them go. We can move east and not have to worry about it.”
“They’re invading our country. I can’t just ignore that. If those other ships contain the same number of people and vehicles, we have no chance at all. We have to stop them here before they all get off the ships and try to move.” He thought for a bit longer, and added, “Let’s get the other women and send you guys back to Sarge. I’m staying here while you bring back the goodies we need to sink those ships in the channel before they can land.”
“That’s crazy! Let’s just run the other way.”
“We need to get you guys out of here with a list of what I need. Let’s go.” Stryker didn’t wait for a reply, but walked down the stairs and into the room where the rest of the women were searching the recorder’s office. He said, “Who has a paper and pen?”
“I do,” Elle replied.
“Write this down.”
“Okay, go.”
“I need Sarge to go to Boeme, Texas, about twenty-five miles northwest of San Antonio. Tell him to get into Camp Stanley Ordinance Depot and get me as much C-4 and detonators as he can. I need the timers to be waterproof, and we also need as many M224 mortars and shells as he can lay his hands on. I need scuba equipment if he can find it, or at least a mask and a snorkel if he can’t. Tell him we’re going to try to sink those ships in the harbor so grab anything else he thinks might be useful.”
“What the hell is going on?” Elle asked.
“Explain it to them on the way out of town,” Stryker told Erin. “We don’t have time for this. We need to move before they start leaving the pier.” He turned and ran to the stairwell, waited for them to catch up, and they pounded down the stairway, through the lobby, and stopped running at the Jeep. Stryker handed the keys to Erin.
“Tell Sarge to come alone and meet me at the underpass to the downtown exit around sundown tomorrow. Tell him to come alone. Now go.” He turned before she could reply, ran to the corner of the courthouse, and got into position to cover their retreat. He saw the Jeep pull away and disappear into the distance, went back into the building, and resumed watching the ship disgorge its passengers and vehicles.
“Well, I guess this is where love goes to die,” he muttered.
The End