The pilots had been trained well, and brainwashed even better. The pilots knew that something was odd about having to spray. They were taught that what they sprayed was necessary to both combat the enemy, and also save the planet. It was beneficial. They had been lied to, just as the pilots who had sprayed agent orange in Vietnam over the jungle had been lied to.
A single Air Force base in Nebraska had the task of working the entire mid-west region. Days after the program had been ordered, word had leaked.
A single Massive Ordinance Air Blast device transmitting a 'friend' signal fell into the center of the Air Force runway at the base. It destroyed the entire base, forever eliminating future threat from this source.
However, the damage had already been done. Unbeknown to them, they were not spraying aluminum chaff to confuse enemy radar which would also combat global warming.
What they were spraying was alive, if you can call sub-microscopic chunks of RNA wrapped in protein coats truly 'alive'.
Mere days later everyone at the farm had come down sick with some sort of flu at approximately the same time. Sue had been the only one spared for no seeming rhyme or reason. The fact that she did not get sick was fortunate.
Joe was scheduled to go into Hoisington next week to fulfill his part of the bargain he had made with the Captain. He was required to do some training, and Zeb had agreed to go along. He had been contracted to retrain some of the Captain's men.
Unfortunately both Joe and Dave were the hardest hit by the flu bug.
After three days of literally no sleep, Sue was terrified. As soon as she would start to nod off while sitting in the corner of the basement, another man would spike a high fever. They would start groaning, shaking, or babbling incoherently, and she would attempt the use of a cold wet rag to break the fever. She would wet a rag and place it on their forehead to draw out the heat, then switch to the back, chest, and underarms. So far it had worked.
However it was a daunting task. When the guys had made the supply run, none had thought to grab acetaminophen tablets or any other cold and flu type medicines. A desperate search of John's old medicine cabinet had provided no other fever reducers either. The few tablets which had been located in John's wall mounted first Aid kit had been ruined by fifty caliber rounds when the house was destroyed.
Day and night she had been in the role of a nurse, with little time for even sanitation or eating. The effort combined with an absolute lack of sleep was taking its toll on Sue, and she looked it.
Her normally cheerful green eyes were sunken, she had lost ten pounds in only one week. As thin as she was anyway, it was weight she did not have to spare. Her face was a reflection of pain and despair.
Her husband Dave had spike a horribly high fever of one hundred and nine degrees which she had broken. Later in the day he spiked a new fever. It had happened over and over relentlessly.
Between his bouts of coughing and choking on chunks of greenish phlegm, she saw no sign of him recovering. She hugged herself wondering if she would end up a widow, as it looked like this flu might well kill him.
Joe was very sick, but not quite as bad. He was still spiking high fevers though his breathing was much easier than Dave's, and he was not coughing up phlegm.
Sue thought Dave quite probably had some nasty form of pneumonia. He was the medic, not her. Dave knew more about how to deal with such things than Sue. She felt completely overwhelmed.
On the brink of utter hopelessness, Joe had come far enough out of it to gasp at Sue something which brought a glimmer of hope.
“A mile... over... Little bridge... Elder... cough.... berry and Ech.... Cough... Echinacea. Make some tea... cough…. cough... Go. Hurry,” Joe choked out, trying hard to control his coughing so he could speak at all.
He was exhausted by the effort, and sank back into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep. He did not even wake up when he started into a batch of racking coughs.
Joes words came back to her in a rush. Go. Hurry.
Sue ran. She was so tired that she took nothing but a plastic bag to carry the two ingredients. The little baggie was it, no gun for defense from animals, and not even any water. She was fortunate as nothing leaped out of the grass or bushes to attack her on the way.
Her memory was not working properly, and she felt frustration trying to remember what Joe had taught her. Joe had taught everyone at the farm what Echinacea Angustifolia, aka snakeroot, looked like. Looking down as something scratched her, she recognized the spiky flower head with the purple, daisy like leaves. Further examination showed the plants other characteristics of the thin long green leaves radiating outwards like a dinner-plate from the base of the plant.
She was standing right next to an Echinacea. She grabbed and pulled, but to no avail. This was a serious problem as Sue had forgotten to bring even a basic garden trowel, and the root on this plant was tough. Looking around, she saw a broken fence post. The broken end was a long thin wedge shape which was perfect for a digging stick.
Sue dug under the plant a little on one side, knowing from Joe's previous teaching that the root probably went straight down. She pushed the sharp end of the broken post down into the ground two inches from the root, leaned on the post, and was rewarded by the effort with a 'pop' as the root broke four inches below ground. The prize, a chunk of root four inches long and an inch thick at the top went into the bag.
Exhausted and crying, she sat by the hole, too tired at the moment to do anything else. She refused the obvious possibility that many at the house, including her husband and children might die from this mysterious ailment. Everyone had been healthy as a horse and they hadn't been around any other humans for over a week. Sue knew better than to believe the sickness a coincidence.
On the way back she remembered the berries and groaned. The little bridge was only fifty yards behind her, so she turned and ran to the bushes. The berries were ripe, and she grabbed two clumps of the small black fruit which filled the bag.
Once the berries were collected, she walked back to the farm. Sue no longer had the hysteric strength from the adrenaline which had allowed her to run the full mile overland to the bridge. Sue was gone for only an hour and a half, but she was in for a shock.
Death had come knocking at the door, and She was not home to drive it away.
Returning to the ruined farmhouse, Sue went back into the basement and a quick check showed no current horridly high fevers, and many of the sick rested peaceably in their beds. Going to the duel fuel Coleman stove they had been using for cooking she made the tea as she had been shown in training using a percolator type camping coffee maker.
She gave the tea first to Dave, then to Joe. She made more of the nasty herbal tea, and started administering it to the rest. Nicolson had been recovering from his wounds received from the bear. She poured a little into his mouth, which then simply ran out of the corner between his parted lips. His temperature felt a little cooler than before she left.
It was only then that she realized that his eyes were open and he was looking at her, or rather through her. His chest was not moving, as he was not breathing. It was then she noticed the odd glazed look to his eyes.
It was the vacant open stare of death which she confronted, and it tore to the center of her being. Bitter sadness welled up within her and burst out.
While wiping her hand over his eyes to shut them Sue cried, sobbing softly. She had liked this man, who had for months been as a brother to her. She had saved his life once, and he had saved hers. A small piece of herself died with Nicolson. Rocking gently and crying while holding Nicolson's head in her lap, Sue fell asleep.
Zeb had recovered enough to both wake up and actually get up. Stumbling around like a newborn lamb he found her holding Nicolson who looked deeply asleep. Everyone else was sick as well, and most were asleep. Zeb was shocked by what he saw.
Last thing he could remember, she had been both healthy and happy. Now she looked like she was half dead and her sleeping
face was a mask of utter misery. He hadn't felt good and had lain down, only to awaken to this. It seemed unreal to him, like he had stepped through a hidden door into some alternate reality.
Not knowing yet that Nicolson was dead, Zeb felt like he was starving, as if he hadn't eaten in a month. He went and ate a bunch of home-made smoked deer jerky, and then ate the remains of some flat-bread. He was still hungry with a ravenous desire to eat.
They had plenty of food so he chowed down. After his hunger was assuaged, Zeb noted the bowl of water with a rag lying next to Dave. Next to Dave was a cup he dimly remembered containing a foul tasting brew Sue had given him.
The bag of berries and roots next to the stove told the rest of the tale to the grizzled veteran. He had suffered through the training as well.
Sue was asleep, and Zeb saw the clean runnels the tears had cut through the dirt on her face. The unblinking stare of one eye on Nicolson’s face told another story. One eyelid popped open despite Sue's attempt to close it before she fell asleep. Her chest was rising and falling so he knew she was okay.
There was a reason in centuries past that people placed coins over the eyes of the dead. One reason was just mere superstition, but the other had validity. They kept the eyelids from opening and scaring the heck out of relatives, which Zeb felt would have been a good thing in this case. That unblinking stare seemed to be looking at him wherever he was, and it felt creepy to the extreme. He wiped his hand over the eye, but it refused to stay closed. It gave him a royal case of the heebie-jeebies.
Disengaging Sue from Nicolson, Zeb was shocked to the bone.
Even in his fatigued condition she felt light as a feather, weighing at most ninety pounds. It was a generous estimate considering that she actually weighed around eighty pounds now, having only weighed a hundred and five before. Sue had lost twenty five pounds and was already in the process of starvation where the body has exhausted the fat reserves and was processing muscle tissue.
Zeb carried her to an empty sleeping spot and carefully laid her down, making sure she was otherwise okay. She was not running a fever, and he didn’t see any bruises of cuts so he relaxed. He decided he was going to make sure she was eating, as she weighed less now than most teenagers.
He then checked on everyone else, not noticing much wrong, except for Dave. Dave concerned him deeply. His breathing was ragged and uneven, his chest heaving for each breath even though it appeared his fever was broken.
Without any medical training even Zeb could spot pneumonia when it was this bad.
Joe seemed to be sleeping deeply. Hitch was already getting up, looking disoriented. Zeb decided to fix him some grub knowing how famished he probably was. He made a full pan as others were stirring. Cross got out of bed with the smell, complaining that he was hungry.
Zeb noticed that over-all the military men were generally in much better shape than the others. The assessment excluded Nicolson who had probably died from the wounds of the bear attack combined with the extra strain caused by the flu. He suddenly remembered all of the inoculations they had been given just a month before things had broken down.
The extra shots hadn’t made sense then, but they did now. The Lieutenant's eyebrows lowered in unspoken rage, but he was still too weak to even complain.
“Hitch... You and cross get situated. We have got to bury Nicolson,” Zeb ordered.
I know none of us is in any shape to dig, but I want to get it done before anybody else gets up. Daniels, I see you are coming out of it. Get a shirt on, eat, then make some of those berries and roots over there into big batch of tea like Joe taught you, and get some of that nasty junk into everyone.”
“Whether they want it or not,” he finished after a short pause.
After eating his fill, which was not that much, Hitch helped Zeb get Nicolson wrapped in a piece of carpet so they could take his body outside. That is when he noticed Sue.
“What happened to her?,” Hitch asked amazed, concern heavy on his voice.
“I distinctly remember her helping me outside yesterday to take a leak. I thought she was immune. She get this stuff?”
“I think she saved all our lives, and it looks like it cost her,” Zeb replied.
“She cried herself to sleep holding Nicolson. Dave's in really bad shape, and I bet she knows it. This might end up real hard on her,” he whispered so only Hitch could hear.
“Man I hope not,” Hitch whispered back earnestly.
“They are both like family to me. This royally sucks.”
They could not bury Nicolson as Zeb had desired. None of them had the strength to dig. Instead, they gave him an above ground funeral pyre. They stacked split hardwood billets out in the open land to the west in a spot they had charred back the grass.
Zeb held a small ceremony and said some kind words about his friend, followed in turn by the rest. All the military men were dressed in their best BDU's. After the last speech, they all snapped a salute to their fallen comrade and lit the funeral pyre. They had to cremate him, as leaving the body until they were strong enough to dig a proper grave would only invite more sickness.
The next day Sue was still asleep which worried everyone but Zeb. He knew that she might sleep for another ten hours. The human body does most of its repair work during that time. Joe and the boys were almost recovered. Dave, however, was much worse.
“Hitch,” Zeb started.
“Get in that Hummer and get to Base Alpha. Get a med-evac out here for Dave yesterday. Grab some new batteries for the big portable two way radios as well. We've all had our head up our rear ends, putting off getting the long range communications operable,” Zeb ordered.
“If you don't hurry, Dave probably won't make it. Put your foot to the floor and hold it there. Don’t use the onboard radio, it is probably being monitored.”
“And Hitch, if anything gets in your way don't even take time to shoot, just run it over. Any delays and you might as well walk back, if you get my drift.”
28. (To Burn or Not to Burn?)
Sue woke in the afternoon and Zeb fetched her a MRE food pack and some water to renew her strength. Immediately concerned about Dave, Sue tried to get up. Zeb held her down with only one hand because she was so weak.
“Little miss, you aren’t in any shape to even help yourself. Get some rest.”
“Dave needs me. Let me go!” she ranted, struggling to free herself.
“Lay your butt down and get more rest, Sue. Everything is under control. I sent Hitch to get medical assistance. Now young lady, you drink this,” he stated, giving her a swig of her own berry and root brew.
.
“Agggghhhh. That stuff is nasty! It tastes like distilled socks,” Sue said with a grimace.
“We ran out of coffee filters,” Zeb simply replied.
The lights were getting dim. Cross had come up with a twelve volt lighting scheme using salvaged auto batteries and brake light bulbs. The batteries were stored in the shed and he had run heavy wire twenty feet to the basement. They recharged the batteries when necessary using the generator and a large twenty amp battery charger they had found stored in a cabinet.
The system was ungainly, even ugly, but it worked. It had been their source of light after the electricity had finally stopped flowing from the mains.
“Someone needs to start the generator,” Sue noted, getting drowsy again from exhaustion.
She found herself unable to keep her eyes open after eating the food, so she laid back down and drowsed off to sleep.
“I'll do it Sue, just get some sleep little miss,” Zeb replied quietly, starting to look at the woman twenty years his junior as if she were his own daughter.
Jonas and Kyle had gotten up and seemed to be feeling fine except for being extremely tired. This was in part remedied after getting some much needed food and water in their collective bellies.
“Once you two are done stuffing your faces, go out and fire up the genny. The batteries are about dead, and we need the light.”
/> Jonas grumbled. No one could figure out whether he was grumbling about the request or the packet of eggs he was shoveling rapaciously in his mouth from the MRE. Kyle winced as those things were truly gross.
“Not a prob Bob,” Kyle replied to Zeb’s request.
“Good, because it is going to be dark soon. Without those lights it will be mighty dark down here.”
The sun was going down when the characteristic 'thwap thwap thwap' sound of an incoming chopper was heard. Hewitt, Cross, and Daniels were on guard duty and had been warned to expect one. They were also to make double sure before exposing themselves, as one military chopper can be hard to distinguish from another without seeing it first.
The chopper approached, but instead of attacking it landed in the huge clear area in the front yard. Everyone relaxed when Hitch hopped down after the rotors slowed, running bent over towards the house. Three medics followed him with a large med kit.
Surviving in America: Under Siege 2nd Edition Page 17
