But agreeing to it would involve relinquishing some control, and that part was tough. Maintaining control ensured things happened the way they needed to happen, when they needed to happen, and with an operation as big as the one that he was running in the P.Z., that was no small task.
Still, not having to deal with all the ‘emotional needs’ crap? That was enticing.
“If I were to agree to this,” he began, still staring out the window, “I’d need your word that you would be serving in the capacity you’ve described, not as someone looking to bring in more people to join your family.”
“Of course, Colonel. I am first and foremost interested in the well-being of the people here. We are all God’s children, and as such, we must care for one another. I consider that my number one job, and I believe that aligns perfectly with what is needed here.”
Walters nodded, then brought up his forefinger as he looked at the other man. “I can’t have you pushing religion on them, either. The U.S. Military has rules about that.”
“I understand. I will keep my sermons and teachings completely separate.”
“Alright, you can assist in the capacity you’ve suggested,” Walters replied, feeling a bit relieved at the thought of having the help. He had much, much bigger things to focus on, and being able to take the ‘touchy-feely’ stuff off his plate was a welcome thought. “Thank you for the help.”
Jeremiah bowed his head slightly. “It will be my absolute pleasure, Colonel,” he replied, before reaching out to shake Walters’s hand. “I will be your eyes and ears, Sam. I will ensure that the people know they are being heard and that their concerns are not being ignored. You have my word.”
Walters shook the man’s hand, meeting his eyes momentarily. It would be good to have the help, so why did it feel like he was making a mistake?
Stepping out of the door from the access stairwell and out onto the roof, Walters and Sergeant Ferrell heard the sound of a large crowd cheering once more, this time even louder than before.
Walking quickly over to the edge of the roof at the front of the large structure, Walters felt his heart pound in his chest as he stared out towards the Capitol building. What he’d expected to see was maybe a hundred, hundred and fifty people surrounding Jeremiah, with most of them being part of his ‘family.’
What he saw instead was a crowd that easily exceeded a thousand people. Though he couldn’t hear what Jeremiah was saying, he did note that when the man spoke, the crowd quieted, and when he paused, they cheered raucously.
“Shit,” he spat out, wondering if it was already too late to take control back.
Turning to Sergeant Ferrell, he said, “Set up a meeting with Mister Clark. He and I need to have a talk about this.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Thanks.” Walters continued to watch the gathering of people for a few moments before adding, “Why don’t you head back down? I’d like to have a little time up here by myself to think.”
“Yes, Sir,” the young man said before turning and heading back to the stairwell.
When Walters heard the door slam behind the man, he muttered to himself. “What are you up to?” he asked as he watched the distant crowd cheer wildly for the tall, good-looking preacher.
Whatever it was, it could not interfere with what he needed to do.
He wouldn’t let it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
San Francisco Protective Zone, California
Day 0
‘Dang. Who knew being a soldier was this hard?’ Paul wondered, leaning over to rest his hand on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. ‘Literally everyone,’ he chided himself, feeling stupid for asking the question.
“Stay standing,” Staff Sergeant Phillip Singletary said, nudging him. “Put your hands on your head and walk it off.” Looking over at another man, he smiled. “You really kicked his ass, brother.”
Fellow Staff Sergeant Aaron Denard smiled. “What do you expect?” He looked at the eighteen year old and smiled. “Army,” he explained, simply, before rolling his eyes.
“I...just...enlisted...yesterday,” Paul managed between breaths.
“Still, Corporal,” Phillip replied, smacking him on the back hard enough to knock him forward. “You could have joined the Marines.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t, so now we gotta show who the toughest Service is,” Aaron added.
“Settle down, fellas, that wasn’t shit.”
Looking to their left, they saw Chief Petty Officer Gabriel “Chili” Serrano walking towards. After they’d come to a stop at the top of the hill, he’d turned and headed back down the hill. Once he’d reached the bottom of the hill, a half mile away, he’d turned and headed back up the hill at a fast pace. And now, here he was, talking trash.
To make things even more demoralizing, he wasn’t even short of breath.
“Come on, Chili,” Aaron said in exasperation. “That run was six miles. We had to go easy on the youngster.”
“We could have left him and gone on,” Chili replied. “Could’ve headed back around for another loop. Shit, when was the last time you were able to do a nice run without having to look over your back for those...things?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Phillip replied, “but you know, he woulda got lost, tryin’ to find his way back.”
“Really?” Chili asked, looking at Paul.
“I...um...don’t want to get involved in...whatever this is.” Paul said, bringing his hands up in mock surrender.
The three other men laughed in response. Chili pointed a finger at the teenager. “That’s probably a good call, there, buddy.”
At dinner, the four men sat together at a table, along with Sergeant First Class Logan Matthews and Isabella Rodriguez, a young girl who been tested and found to be immune to the Rage Virus. They were eating earlier that usual in anticipation of an early rise the next day.
They’d head East, to Virginia, where Isabella, the first person verified to be immune to the virus, would allow her blood to be used in an effort to develop a vaccine. It would be a long, tough journey, but they were confident in their ability to complete it without issue.
“Where’s the Doc?” Logan asked between mouthfuls of previously dried mashed potatoes. With a lot of butter, salt, and pepper, they weren’t that bad. The doctor he was referring to was Colonel/Doctor Jonathan Reed, who had been working with Doctor Chang and Doctor Bowman back in Virginia to develop a cure. Although they’d made great progress at identifying ‘how’ the virus turned ordinary people into mindless killing machines, and although they’d identified who inadvertently unleashed the virus, along with which specific circumstances created an environment suitable to foster it, they’d made little to no progress at developing a vaccine.
Which was where the girl came in.
“He got called to the Op Center at H.Q..” Chili replied before shoveling a big piece of previously frozen beef into his mouth. He chewed a few times, then added, “Might have a change of plans.”
“No way,” Phillip replied, shaking his head. “Not this late in the game.”
Chili scoffed. “Care to make a bet out of it?” he asked, his mouth still full of partially chewed beef.
Phillip’s eyes met the Navy SEAL’s momentarily, then looked away. He shook his head. “Nah. You’re an old fart. Probably got some inside scoop or something.”
Without breaking his concentration, Chili tore off a piece of dinner roll and flicked it at the young Marine’s head, hitting him between the eyes. “Smart ass.”
Isabella laughed happily at the sight of the man being hit with a piece of dinner roll, her laughter buoying the mood of everyone at the table. The rest of the group joined in, quickly realizing how good it felt to laugh and enjoy life, even if just for a few minutes.
“Good evening, men.”
Looking over at the origin of the voice, Chili nodded. “Evening Doc. Join us?”
“Happily,” the tall, African-American man said, sitting down next to the SEA
L. Pausing momentarily, he said, “I don’t want to interrupt the meal, but I do need to tell you all that we need to head for the Op Center after we’re done.”
“Mission change?” Chili asked, looking sideways at Phillip.
“Yes,” Reed replied, before asking, “How’d you know?”
“Alright, so here’s the deal,” General Armstead began. Standing at an awe-inspiring six foot, six inches and close to two hundred and fifty pounds, the man’s sheer size dominated the room, and try as he might, he couldn’t avoid casting a large shadow over the map that he and the others gazed down upon.
“Getting the girl all the way across the U.S. will take too long, so the President discussed options with Doctor Reed and the two doctors out there in Virginia, where she’s at. Turns out, there are a few other medical centers in the U.S. that would have the equipment needed for them to complete their analysis and to…” turning to Doctor Reed, he asked, “what’d you call it, Jon?”
“Synthesize a vaccine, Sir.”
General Armstead nodded. “Yes, exactly.”
“Although it won’t be easy, Sir.”
The big man waved Reed off. “I know, I know, Doc, and I get it, but the part I’m involved in is getting you all there.”
“Excuse me, Sir,” Serrano said, leaning forward. “Where, exactly are we going?”
The General continued, pointing at a series of locations on the map. Each time he did, his thick fingers blocked out the entire city on the map, and in some cases, the better part of the state. “There were several to choose from. Obviously, Berkeley, Stanford, or UC San Diego, out here on the West Coast would be great, but it would take just as long to get those doctors here as it would to get you all there. The CDC in Atlanta presents basically the same challenge, as does Columbia University in New York.”
Pausing, he stood straight and looked down at the map. “We needed to find something kind of ‘halfway’ between the two coasts. University of Texas has a great medical research lab, as does University of Michigan, but in the end, we needed to know you would be somewhere safe while you did your work, not spend half your time fighting those zombie-things or other assholes like you all had to deal with on your way here.”
“No kidding, Sir,” Reed said, nodding.
Looking to his right, the General nodded. “Major?”
“Oklahoma City,” Major Kincaid said from next to the General. Much smaller than the General, the man had almost been completely obscured by the senior officer’s bulk.Using a highlighter, the Major identified a spot on the map as he spoke. “The Oklahoma Medical Research Foundation there has great facilities and is inside the Protective Zone. Once you get there, you should be able to work in relative peace. Plus, it’s pretty close to the halfway point across the country.”
“Wait,” Serrano said, leaning forward. He couldn’t believe he’d missed what they’d said the first time. “So, those two other doctors are going to meet all of us there, in OKC?”
“Yes. That’s right, Chili,” Armstead replied, nodding.
“Do they have escorts? How are they gonna get there safely?”
“You know, that was a sticking point that we all considered. Fortunately, some of the Marines from Quantico made it up to Mount Weather before the lockdown occurred. There’s eight of them that will accompany the two doctors down to Oklahoma.”
“Ooh Rah,” Aaron said from his spot at the table.
General Armstead raised an eyebrow as he looked over at the young Marine. “Settle down, Devil Dog.”
“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.” Dennard replied sheepishly.
“We’re good, Staff Sergeant,” the General replied.
“So the five of us and the girl?” Serrano asked, motioning towards Reed, Phillip, Aaron, Logan, and Isabella.
“Actually, I’ve assigned a few others to accompany you.” Looking towards the other side of the room, where a small group of Army soldiers waited. “Sergeant, come over here, please.” Looking at Serrano and Reed, he smiled slightly. “I think you might remember them.”
“Shit, hell yeah, I do,” Serrano began, before reminding himself that he was talking to a two-star General. “Sorry, Sir, I mean - ”
“Relax, Chili. Once things get back to normal, or whatever we decide is close to that, we can return to the rigid nature of military etiquette. Right now, let’s just get the job done.”
“Sounds good, Sir,” Serrano replied, before sticking his hand out towards the leader of the small group that had joined them. “Sergeant Nicholson, it’s good to see you again.”
“You, too, Chili, but actually it’s Staff Sergeant now.”
“Congrats, then,” Chili replied, shaking the man’s hand with more enthusiasm. “Well deserved. You all will be coming with?”
“Yes, Chief. Myself, Specialist Zhang, Specialist Rodriguez, and Specialist Simmons.”
“You all got promoted?” Serrano asked, surprised.
“Yeah, that’s on me,” the General confessed. “Things got...so crazy last week when you all finally made it here after everything that you went through, I just...hell, you all deserved it.”
Serrano nodded. Each and every one of them had done amazing things to ensure survival of the core members of the group. “They sure did.”
“Alright, so,” the big man continued, “Nicholson, Zhang, Rodriguez, and Simmons will be in the lead vehicle. Colonel Reed, Staff Sergeant Mason, Sergeant First Class Matthews, and Miss Isabella will be second, in a Stryker ICV. You, the two jarheads, and Corporal Jenkins will be in the trail vehicle.”
Serrano nodded. “Sounds good, General.”
The General and Major Kincaid took turns filling in the team on the remainder of the details, pausing to answer questions as needed. After thirty minutes of discussion, the group felt confident that they fully understood the plan.
“Alright,” General Armstead said, clapping his massive palms together with an air of finality. “Mission go time is tomorrow at zero eight hundred hours. We’ve got your gear ready down in the gear issue room. Head on down and pick it up. After that, I recommend you all get some rest and wake up early enough to get yourself a good hot meal. It might be awhile before your next one.”
“Sounds good, Sir,” Serrano said, nodding. He glanced at his watch. It was 2100, still plenty early.
Turning to look at Major Kincaid once more, the General nodded. The smaller man stepped over in front of Serrano. Raising his voice, he said, “Chief Serrano, ah-ten-tion!”
Confused, Chili frowned as he looked back at the Air Force Major. “Sir?”
“Chief, Ah-ten-shun!”
Serrano went to a loose interpretation of standing at attention.
General Armstead stepped forward. “Come on, Chili, you can do better than that. Just go with it for a minute, will ya?”
Not wanting to disrespect the man, Serrano stood straighter.
“Okay, now, if you would, raise your hand and repeat after me.”
“Wait,” Serrano said, turning his head slightly to look at the man out of the side of his eye. “I’m not reenlisting, Sir.”
“I know, I know.” Armstead replied, nodding. “But you didn’t think I’d forget about you, did you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, I know there’s no way you’d want to become an LDO, and frankly, the idea of calling you ‘Ensign’ makes me want to puke, which is why I’ve decided to commission you as a Warrant Officer.”
Stunned, Serrano blinked. “I - ”
Armstead grinned. “Now, let’s try this one more time. I’m tired, my back hurts, and my bunions are killing me, so if you would, please, raise your right hand and repeat after me.”
Serrano brought his hand up.
The General smiled. “Good.” He raised his right hand as well. “I, state your name,”
“I, Gabriel Serrano…”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
San Francisco Protective Zone, California
Day 0
Inside th
e well-lit room on the first level of the Operations Building, the sound of a man’s badly-offkey voice echoed off the walls.
“‘'Cause we're young and we're reckless
We'll take this way too far
It'll leave you breathless, hmm
Or with a nasty scar
Got a long list of ex-lovers
They’ll tell you I’m insane
But I’ve got a blank space, baby
And I’ll write your name,’”
Happily humming the music that followed in the Taylor Swift song, John Willey leaned forward and looked through the big, disk-like magnifying glass that allowed him to see his work up close. Moving his hand slowly and carefully, he brought the hot tip of the soldering gun down to the piece of tin, touching it ever so briefly to melt it. The soft, liquid metal cooled quickly in place, reestablishing the connection between the two components on the motherboard.
“There. That should do it,” he said to himself. As a computer hardware and software specialist, he took pride in his work, whether he was reconfiguring a Virtual Private Network, retrieving data that had been feared lost, or performing electro mechanical repairs on circuit boards. Not only did he know how to do it, but he was also really good at it.
Reaching over, he grabbed the CPU tower and turned it back on its side. Working quickly and efficiently, he reattached the processor, RAM, and video card before reconnecting the power to the board itself. Feeling confident that his repair would be successful, he stood the tower back upright and reattached the outer side panel.
“Any chance you didn’t do this right, John?” he asked himself aloud.
“No way,” he answered, as he quickly reconnected the mouse, keyboard, and monitor to the tower.
Without hesitation, he pressed the button for the power button. The screen remained black for a second, then showed its handful of various boot level checks before going dark again. A half-second later, the Microsoft Windows logo appeared.
Surviving Rage | Book 5 Page 6
