“They have a truck that’s rigged to explode against the building. There’s no telling what may happen if it does. If they are able to get to the Alamo, it will be a massacre.”
I heard Dr. Swanson sigh. “The Alamo was a massacre, but at least they spared the women and children. Is there anything I can do?”
“I’m not sure there’s much I can do.”
Had it been lighter, I would have tried to kill their leader as he spoke, but the sun’s rays were just barely coming over the horizon. His words were as much about the greatness of how the SA8 virus had freed his people, as they were about the compound’s destruction. He was a politician, no better or worse than Stevenson as he gave a speech to oppress anyone who stood in his way, including me. And like Stevenson, his infected people took in every word.
“May we show the world how we are the greatest in numbers, in power, in strength, and in resilience. That no one will ever destroy what we are creating!”
The people cheered and honked their horns one last time as I sat upon the roof, waiting. The speech was over and his troops were inspired to kill us all.
Finally, a vehicle in the center of the line roared its engine and crept forward. In an instant it took off, coming directly for Block A.
I took aim, closing one eye and looking through the crosshairs, aiming right in front of the vehicle. Breathing out slowly, I squeezed the trigger and a flash of light burnt through the darkness and toward the vehicle. It blew up on impact and then again when the explosives inside detonated. I looked out at the cars and the hundreds of people congregating for the attack, and I wanted to kill them all.
“You did it!” Dr. Swanson screamed, but I ran back and silenced her.
“We have to grab as many of these as we can and get out of here.” She nodded and we both picked up the remaining three rocket-propelled grenades and ran back into the building. Down the stairs we went, and I was amazed to see there were no soldiers running toward us. How had Stevenson and Bastrop not had any first line of defense?
We escaped out of the back of the building and ran into Block B. Again, there were no soldiers in sight, but when we reached the radio room, both Michael and Maria were gone.
“They have Michael,” I said.
“Who? The Déracinés?”
“No, Stevenson, and he’s using him to get to me.”
Dr. Swanson said nothing.
“That’s why they are not defending the compound, because if they don’t have me, they don’t have anything to fight for anyway.”
“You’re being traded?”
“In a few hours, if we survive that long.” I looked at the radio instruments, but noticed the bullet holes in them. There was no blood, so I could only hope Michael and Maria were still alive.
“I know what you’re thinking, but you can’t give yourself up to them,” Dr. Swanson said sternly.
“It’s the only way.”
* * * *
I knocked on the door that led down to the Alamo, knowing there had to be soldiers who could hear it.
“If you want me, you better open this door right now!” I commanded
It only took a moment, but the door swung backward and I was met with three pistols pointed in my face, but I met them with a rocket pointed at theirs. Their faces were shocked in fear, but I stood firmly.
“You can shoot me, but it means you all die when the helicopters come and level this place...that is, of course, if you survive the Déracinés about to attack out front.”
Slowly, they stepped back, but never yielded their weapons or turned their back on us as we made our way downstairs. As soon as we were in, they barricaded the door, waiting for the inevitable attack from outside.
The corridor we entered had more soldiers in it, some of which I recognized and many of which I didn’t. There were older men and women carrying weapons as well as young boys and girls, perhaps only ten or twelve years of age. Everyone who could fight was there, awaiting the infected warriors outside. They split down the middle as we made our way toward the training room.
“I’m telling you the truth. If you check my office, you will find an escape tunnel there. We can get all of these people to safety if you just believe me.” It was Michael’s voice, and I breathed a sigh of relief that he was still alive.
The moment I walked through the door, a pistol was put to my head.
“Hand over the RPG.”
I could see Bastrop out of the corner of my eye. Slowly, I lowered it and a soldier snatched it away from me. Dr. Swanson and I raised our hands. I looked at Michael, knelt down next to Maria, their hands tied behind their backs. He gave me a quick smile, and I couldn’t help but return it.
Clomping of feet made its way up the metal staircase in front of us. Stevenson smiled at me as he approached.
“Well, well, looks like you came back just in time. The governmental agents will be here soon.”
“They can’t save you from the Deracine army that’s about to invade this place. We’re all about to die in here.”
“That’s why we call it the Alamo,” he replied with a smile. “But like Dr. Swanson, I know a little history too.” Stevenson walked around me and I shivered from just being near him. “There’s a story out of ancient Greece where some three hundred Spartans were able to hold off an army of thousands for days because they led them into a narrow battlefield.” He smiled at me. “Those hallways up there are our battlefield and we will be able to do the same thing.”
“Those hallways are filled with kids and old people, not soldiers. Do you really think they will be able to hold back a bunch of crazed maniacs for the next few hours?”
Stevenson moved around to stand right in front of me now.
“Why do you think the Romans called them infantry?” He smiled at me again. “The helicopters will save us down here in time. There will be enough who survive, and we will recover. Hell, we might even get lucky, and when these agents come get you, maybe they will take us back to safety with them.”
“So that’s all this was—a way to save your own neck.”
Stevenson laughed as he stepped toward Michael. I looked at him also and he stared strongly at me, but didn’t change any expression.
“Jennifer, that’s all we have been doing since this virus broke out. Everyone is out to save themselves, including you. You begged us to stay here, for us not to send you back out there with them,” he gestured toward the door, toward the Déracinés. “And if you are resistant, as Michael has claimed, then you are much more important to our safety, but your friends over here mean nothing to me.”
Stevenson gestured to a soldier who pushed Dr. Swanson across the room and forced her to kneel next to Michael. Stevenson grabbed a pistol and pushed it up against Maria’s forehead. She took one last, desperate gasp of breath before the gun went off and she fell to the floor dead. I flinched, but I stifled the whimper in my voice. My only thought was of Michael being next and me being forced to watch him die.
“You know what’s funny, Jennifer?” Stevenson asked, a grin on his face, “I actually liked Maria. But your boyfriend here, I should have killed on day one.”
Stevenson turned to him and raised the pistol, Michael glaring at him stoically.
Everything happened like it was in slow motion. I screamed right before the shot was fired, but it was Michael’s hand that had stabbed Stevenson just fast enough to cause the bullet to miss. Stevenson yelled, the stiletto all the way through his hand. Michael quickly spun him around, pulling the blade out and pressing it against Stevenson’s neck. He held Stevenson firm, his arm twisted behind him.
“Let her go!” Michael demanded to Bastrop, who still had a gun pointed at the back of my head. Bastrop laughed.
“Do you think I’m going to let her go because you’re holding him hostage?”
“No, I think you’re going to let her go because it’s the right thing to do.”
Bastrop laughed again.
“Michael, we both know you are th
e only one who does the right thing here.” I felt the pistol push into the back of my head. “Now drop the knife or your girl’s head will be split open like a watermelon.”
“You can’t kill her. She’s what the agents want. What you need to survive.”
“No, Stevenson needs her. She means nothing to me. Plus, it will be fun to know you couldn’t stop me from killing who I want to...again.”
I looked into Michael’s stern eyes, trying to read his plan. I knew he was thinking, but I didn’t know if he could find a way out of this. They softened some when he concluded he couldn’t do anything about the situation. He pulled the dagger away and pushed Stevenson from him. This made Bastrop laugh again.
“I knew you were the only one dumb enough to do that,” Bastrop said, “Say goodbye, sweet cakes.” He pulled me back to him and his gun fired at Michael, hitting him in the chest and knocking him to the floor.
“No!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I broke from Bastrop’s grip and ran to Michael, falling beside him, only to see his green eyes frozen. I buried my face in his chest as tears began to form in my eyes.
Another gunshot rang out and I looked back to see Bastrop drop his gun to the floor and blood begin to spill from his mouth. Slowly, he slunk forward and fell facedown, trying to catch himself, but eventually giving in to his fatal wound. Dr. Swanson stood next to me with Stevenson’s pistol, the barrel still smoking.
“Don’t move,” she said, pointing it at Stevenson. Other soldiers still had their guns pointed at her though.
“Shoot her!” Stevenson yelled, “She’s going to have you all killed.”
“No!” Dr. Swanson retorted, taking just a moment to collect her thoughts. “Have you ever found yourselves pointing guns at each other when the council was in charge, when Michael was leading the defense? Did you ever have your children waiting to get slaughtered like some sacrificial lambs in order to protect you from the Déracinés? You have a choice right now. Either listen to Jennifer, who has saved my life, and get to safety or face death at the hands of those demons outside. So what is it going to be?”
Stevenson stepped forward.
“You think you can live out there? Out there with those monsters? Be my guest, but you won’t make it.”
“You’re wrong.”
I looked down to see Michael slowly coming back to life. He sat up, grimacing when he did, and gave me a little wink before I helped him to his feet.
“How?”
He pulled up his black shirt and showed me the Kevlar vest underneath, a dent right where his heart was.
“You’re wrong because Jennifer made it,” Michael said. “And she will help us make it. You men will be able to help our people survive until we get to our next destination. We can do it together, just like we have done here.”
“Where will we be going?” someone finally asked.
“Shreveport and Marshall. They are sending every bus they have right now.”
“So everyone’s going?” another soldier asked.
“Only if we get out of here alive.”
“But the Déracinés. They will kill us on the road like dogs when we get out there.”
Michael looked at the soldier.
“Then we’ll just have to kill them first.”
* * * *
Soldiers barricaded all of the doors that led down into the Alamo, but the hammering and beating on them had already begun. We could hear gunshots and laughter through the door coming from Block A. They’d invaded the building and it was only a matter of time before they searched and broke down all the doors. We set up the three RPGs by each door, triggered to go off when the doors were breached. I hoped the explosion would give us enough time to evacuate the Alamo.
Dr. Swanson and others led the women and children in lines through Michael’s former office. Everyone wore masks and carried as much food and armaments as they could as quietly as possible. Time was of the essence, and the people were doing well filing out of their home into the unknown.
Déracinés began beating upon the door to Block B.
“Everyone’s out,” Dr. Swanson said.
“Just in time, too,” Michael said, holding the machine gun and pointing it toward the staircase that led to Block A. He had posted guards at all three entrances. I was there, but only because I said I wouldn’t leave without him. He had no time to argue.
“Is everything set up?” he asked as we walked down the corridor.
“We need a few more minutes, Captain,” the young soldier said while duct taping an explosive to one of the metal columns of the corridor. Others did the same within the Alamo.
“So that’s what was in the trunk we carried here?” I asked.
“Yeah, these are the leftovers from the ones used around the perimeter. I’m not sure it’s enough, but hopefully it will give us a head start.”
He turned to me, showing me the detonator in his hand, the red light off. “You need to get out of here, Jennifer. Go wait at least in the tunnel. When everything is set up here, I’ll come join you.”
“I told you I’m not leaving without you.”
“I know; I was just hoping you changed your mind.” He smiled. We looked over at Stevenson, who now had his hands tied behind his back and was sitting next to the office doorway, a soldier stood next to him to guard him. Michael walked up to him.
“If we make it out of here, I’ll be sure wherever we go, people there know what you did here, know that you got people killed, and know you don’t deserve to live. They will decide your fate, and I hope you burn in hell after they do.”
The soldier gripped Stevenson by the arm and shoved him toward the doorway, giving him no time to speak.
“How much more time?” Michael asked.
“Almost finished,” someone yelled.
“Please go. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Michael, I’m not leaving you, not again.”
Michael gave me a strong look, but fought against continuing the argument. He simply reached out and grabbed my hand as we watched the soldiers finishing their work.
The blast nearly knocked me off my feet when the RPG in the first hallway exploded. The lighting flickered, but came back on. The hallway filled with smoke and dust, and the men closest to the blast pulled themselves back to their feet.
“Breach! Block A!” a soldier yelled.
Screaming and hysterical laughter echoed from the staircase. Shots were fired and the first soldiers fell to the floor.
Michael rushed forward, his machine gun up to his shoulder. The shells rattled out of the weapon quickly and met the painted men who stormed down the stairs. I went forward as well, but continued to stay behind Michael. Shots flew back and forth in the small area with the only cover being the corners of the walls. We both hid next to others against the wall, waiting for the next wave to come forward, but all I heard was a tapping against the metal staircase which soon got louder and louder, stopping only when it hit the floor in front of us.
“Grenade!”
Michael grabbed my arm and pushed me toward the staircase leading up to Block C. The explosion knocked me up the stairs and Michael fell on top of me. Everything went quiet again as more smoke and debris fell in the darkness.
Another larger explosion rocked the corridor as the door from Block B exploded. There was no way to know how many Déracinés were killed with each explosion, but more continued behind them, not caring or doing anything for those who had just been killed. Within moments, we heard the movement of people coming down the stairs; their voices intermingled as they cursed the dead soldiers who lay at their feet.
“I can’t see a damn thing,” one yelled.
“Keep searching for the rest. They have to be hiding down here somewhere,” another responded.
Michael slowly lifted himself off me and walked up the stairs, all without making a sound. His hand found mine as he helped me stand, the darkness hiding us from the Déracinés who were now heading down
to the depths of the Alamo. We both walked up the staircase, fearful that every step might get us found. I heard Michael moving something while I stood there in the darkness.
“I disabled the RPG and unlocked the door,” he whispered. “When I pull the door open, go first and I will set off the explosives behind us.”
“Okay,” I barely said, not sure if he heard me or not.
As soon as I saw it, I ran into the sliver of light that offered us our only escape. Michael followed me through and slammed the door behind him. We ran toward the back of the building as he flipped the switch, causing a red light to turn on the detonator. With a press of the button, the floor began to rumble.
* * * *
Michael pushed me from behind, and I ran as hard as I could toward the door leading out of the back of Block C. The interior walls began to crack as the lights fell from the ceiling. At the end of the hallway, we pushed open the metal doors just as the glass entrance broke around us, showering us with sharp, broken pieces. I looked back to see the hallway broken and falling into the darkness. Flames roared through the whole scene as the building popped loudly and trembled.
We ran to the outer fence where Michael pulled away a previously cut section of the barrier. Hurriedly, we ran through the wheat planted behind the compound, going until we reached the tree line. We both looked back this time to see the orange rays of morning light intermixing with the red flames that now leapt out of all three buildings. The underground explosions had done exactly what we had hoped, leaving the thought that all of the people inside had been killed in a devastating blast.
“You’re hurt,” I said to Michael, noticing him holding on to a nearby tree. He looked down at his leg, and I could see the fresh blood running out of his torn pants leg right below the knee.
“It’s nothing,” he said, but grimaced when he took a step toward me. “Let’s keep moving. Hopefully, the rescue buses won’t take too much longer.”
Resistant, no. 1 Page 20
