Surviving Rage | Book 5

by Arellano, J. D.

  “Okay, so let me see, here,” Walters replied, picking up a small stack of papers that had been stapled together. “That would be about….crap. Roughly, that sounds like twenty-five percent of our food stores.”

  The young man said nothing.

  Walters set the papers down. Twenty-five percent of their food stores. Now that was something that impacted him. The people needed to be fed. Basic requirements kept them in check. Comfortable? Maybe. Happy? Not necessarily. But ‘in check.’ As long as they had food and water, shelter, and security, they’d be able to accept the rest.

  To him, Abraham Maslow had defined everything he needed to know about people. The first two levels of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs - physiological and safety - he could provide. Heck, as Maslow had theorized, if they had those, they could focus on the next level: belongingness and love.

  That was on them.

  So this loss was an actual concern.

  Picking up the stack of papers, he thrust it towards the Captain. “Get these numbers updated. I need to know how much we have of each item. I want a full inventory on my desk by sixteen hundred hours.”

  Unable to control his surprise at the demand, the freckled man asked, “A full inventory, Sir?”

  Biting his tongue to keep from yelling at the man, Walters looked up at the ceiling and exhaled loudly. “Yes, Captain. A full inventory. Believe it or not, it’s not that hard. Take the last inventory, which you are holding in your hand, and remove the numbers associated with F. D. One.”

  “I see. Yes, Sir,” the Captain nodded, averting his eyes.

  ‘This guy isn’t making the cut,’ Walters thought to himself.

  “You’re dismissed, Captain,” he said, picking up another stack of papers, this one titled, ‘Infrastructure Status.’

  “Yes, Sir,” the man replied, pivoting on his heel and heading towards the door.

  “And Captain?”

  “Yes, Colonel?”

  “Get a haircut before you come back at sixteen hundred hours.”

  “Yes, Colonel.”

  After the man left, Walters sat in his chair, staring at the papers in his hand without reading them for several minutes as his mind wandered. Finally, he blinked and shook his head before tossing the papers on his desk and rising from his chair. Moving across the room, he went to the doorway and stuck his head out.

  “No interruptions for twenty minutes,” he told Sergeant Ferrell.

  “Hooah, Sir.”

  Closing the door behind him, Walters went to the window and looked out onto the courtyard beyond. Though the grass was overgrown and the trees and bushes were in desperate need of a trim, the concrete area itself, as well as the two sets of patio furniture were clean, thanks to the efforts of the maintenance crew he’d ensured was established. He contemplated stepping out onto the patio to sit in the fresh air, but chose not to, preferring the solace of his office instead. Perhaps that night he’d go out and smoke a cigar while drinking some of the top-shelf bourbon he’d procured (which meant he’d ordered his troops to find and deliver).

  ‘Are you sure you’re up for this?’ he asked himself. ‘It’s not a small undertaking, not by any means.’

  I don’t know, he thought. Maybe I’m in over my head.

  ‘Of course you are, but can you swim?’

  Walters laughed softly. It was part of a saying his father had used. ‘Don’t worry about being in over your head if you can swim. If you can swim, it doesn’t matter how deep the water is.’

  I sure can. He thought. Whether it was related to his father’s saying or simply coincidence, he’d taken swimming for P.E. during every year of high school and joined the Swim Team at Westpoint.

  I’m a Goddamn fish in the water.

  There was no way around it. The fire was bad, and it came at a crucial time, when he needed the citizens of the Protective Zone to understand the importance of what he and his men provided, and even more so now that so many of them were following Jeremiah like he was the second coming.

  ‘Stay the course, Sam. See this through and it’ll be worth it in the end.’

  Satisfied with what he’d worked out in his head, he returned to his desk, sat down in his chair, and opened the bottom drawer. Inside was a small lockbox, which he opened using a key on his keychain. Retrieving a folded piece of paper from inside, he sat back in the high-backed leather bound chair and read the encrypted message he’d received that morning.

  Got you what you needed. He’ll get what you asked for, but will need men and weapons to support. Arrival in the area in approximately 36 hours. More to follow.

  - J

  Smiling to himself, he moved to the room’s fireplace, removed a lighter from his pocket, and lit the piece of paper. Once it was aflame, he tossed it atop the faux logs inside the fireplace and watched it burn until it had been reduced to ash.

  After returning to his desk to make sure the lockbox was secure, he strode back to the door and opened it.

  “Going for my workout early today, Sergeant,” he said as he passed the man’s small desk.

  “Sir, but - ”

  “Have them come back,” he replied, with a wave of his hand.

  The plan was coming together.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  East of Barstow, California

  Day 2

  “Can you move your legs?” Long asked, sneering at Isabella, who sat in the seat across from him.

  Looking at the way the boy was intentionally extending his legs to create the issue, Isabella shook her head. “No, not really. Sorry.”

  “Watch yourself, little guy,” Logan said, looking over at the young Vietnamese boy.

  Long turned away, saying nothing. In doing so, he found himself looking at Doctor Reed. Cowed by the man’s size and proximity, the boy looked down, choosing to stare at his shoes instead.

  Jonathan watched the boy for a few minutes, then looked towards the front of the vehicle, where Staff Sergeant Mason sat behind the wheel. It was another hot summer day in Southern California, and as they rapidly made their way in the direction of the Mojave Desert, the temperature continued to rise, making it more and more uncomfortable inside the confines of the Stryker. Ventilation was poor at best, and the air conditioning, like in the Humvees, was primarily designed to cool the vehicle’s electronics.

  Looking down at Steight, he saw that she was clearly feeling the heat as well. Her tongue lolled in her mouth as she panted heavily in an attempt to cool herself. Reaching down, he gently patted her head, earning ,

  A break was out of the question, considering they’d stopped for lunch and a long stretch barely two hours ago, so they were left to simply sit there and sweat it out. ‘At least this will keep us from gaining too much weight after consuming those super-high calorie MREs,’ Jonathan thought. Reaching up, he wiped sweat from his brow, using a small cloth he’d carried for that purpose. As soon as he removed the existing sweat from his forehead, he felt new droplets spring forth.

  Damn.

  ‘I wonder if Lisa and Andrew are faring any better?’ he asked himself. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, images of the tall, beautiful blonde woman flooded his brain. Though their time together had been short, hectic, and at times incredibly stressful, he found himself longing to be with her more and more.

  Was what he felt real, or just a product of the environment they were in? Was he simply clinging to the thought of being with her because of the pandemic and the sense of despair that it brought with it?

  ‘No,’ he thought. ‘Not at all.’ Lisa was different.

  He’d been with plenty of women in the past. As a relatively young, good-looking doctor, he’d had more than his fair share of attractive women come his way, including a handful of other beautiful blondes.

  But none like Lisa Bowman. Her initial indifference towards him had surprised him, making him see her as out of his league, something he hadn’t felt towards anyone since middle school. Tall, good looking, athletic, and popular, he’d
rarely had the chance to experience someone seeing and treating him as just ‘another guy.’

  He’d quickly realized that (a) she saw him as the overly confident (okay, maybe just a tad bit arrogant) demeanor, and (b) that she was completely turned off by it. Fortunately, Doctor Chang’s presence as part of the group had forced some humility on him, for when it came to peers, Jonathan, who was a well-recognized specialist in the field of hematology, felt lucky to be included in the conversation with Andrew Chang.

  That forced humility, combined with the fact that the seriousness of the task they were confronted with demanded his complete, selfless attention, allowed Lisa to see him as he truly was: a dedicated professional who, after years of success, was still willing to accept the opinions and guidance of others. From there, a friendship had formed.

  Then, something else.

  Before leaving for his trip to Los Angeles with Seal Team Eight, he’d been forced to acknowledge his feelings for Lisa, and as crazy as it seemed, he couldn’t deny what he felt.

  Love.

  After watching five good men die during the mission to L.A. (he’d been shocked to learn Chili had survived), he wondered how long it would take for him to feel human again. The answer came suddenly and definitively when Lisa wrapped her arms around him on the tarmac back at Mount Weather. Finding feelings inside of him he’d worked hard to repress, namely sadness, he allowed himself to embrace them once more as he thought of the men who’d given their lives to ensure he completed the mission successfully.

  Spider

  Dash

  JJ

  Skee

  Tears flowed from him in steady, silent rivers as he wept, his arms squeezing Lisa so tightly it was almost painful. Sensing that he simply needed her to be there for him, she said nothing, instead offering her shoulder and closeness to him.

  Revealing his emotions to her had been simultaneously frightening and empowering. He’d lived his entire life trying to be stronger, tougher, smarter, cooler, better than those around him out of a subconscious sense of self-doubt. He’d repressed emotions for years, unwilling to let others see and/or perceive weakness in him.

  Allowing Lisa to see him in that state was akin to baring his soul, and it surprised him that he was able to do so.

  ‘So what comes next?’ he wondered.

  Whining softly, Steight extended her neck so that she could rest her chin on Jonathan’s boot.

  “Hey, girl,” he responded, reaching down to rub her head.

  The armored vehicle lurched heavily, then began to slow. The radio squawked, but Reed was unable to hear what was said over the noise of the heavy engine. Mason picked up the handheld mic. “Roger that.”

  Turning back towards the group, he raised his voice. “Stopping to check something out. We’ll wait for Chili’s okay before we take the opportunity to get out.”

  Reed and Logan each nodded at the younger man, Logan giving him a thumbs up. Seeing their acknowledgement, Mason opened the door and hopped out.

  He returned a few minutes later, opening the big vehicle’s rear door.

  “Safe to come out, guys, but stay back here, if you don’t mind.

  “Alright,” Jonathan replied, grabbing Steight’s leash. He made his way out, stepping aside to let the dog hop down from the elevated platform of the Stryker’s interior. As Logan was helping first Isabella, then Long, get down, Reed turned and looked for Chili. The SEAL was standing a few feet away, conferring with the Marines and Soldiers.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Serrano shook his head, then jerked it towards the front of their convoy. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  He led Jonathan and Logan alongside the vehicles until they were near the front of the lead Humvee, then pointed. “Take a look.”

  Expecting something relatively rudimentary, Jonathan’s eyes widened at what he saw.

  Where a small bridge crossed over the highway, two tractor trailers had been parked perpendicular to the road, completely blocking it with the exception of a small gap between the two trucks. From where they stood, they could see a number of armed men pacing back on forth on the bridge above the two trucks.

  “Shit.” Logan said, simply.

  ‘Shit, indeed,’ Jonathan thought.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Oklahoma City Protective Zone, Oklahoma

  Day 2

  Standing in the heat of the mid-morning sun, Jeremiah looked out onto the massive crowd that stood before him on the steps of the State Capitol. Estimates from his trusted advisors put the number close to 1,300, and even as he watched, more people were arriving, finding places at the outer fringes of the crowd. Even at that distance, he knew what the looks on their faces would indicate: that they were curious about why so many people looked upon him with reverence.

  ‘You’ll see,’ he thought, as he smiled and waved at the crowd. He’d taken his spot at the top of the steps a few minutes early exactly for this reason, to wave and make eye contact with as many of those gathered as possible before he began speaking. That way, he could focus on others, covering a greater number of people as he spoke. By the time he was done, many of those who’d attended would feel as if some kind of personal connection had been made, that his words were meant for them.

  That connection kept them coming back. More importantly, it made them want others to feel that same connection. They’d talk openly how enlightened they felt after his ‘teachings,’ and encourage others to join them at the next gathering. They’d share the words of wisdom he provided, which he intentionally kept simple and easy to remember, then give him credit for sharing it with them. They, not he, were doing the recruiting now.

  It was all part of the desire to build his base. What the final number would be, he had no idea, but his gut told him he was nowhere near it yet, and the virus had created the perfect environment for him to grow that number. People were desperate for understanding and hungry for hope. He’d offered that and more, through artful blending of mostly inspirational quotes that were tied to the current situation and a sprinkling of carefully chosen scriptures that provided a sense of understanding and hope without being overly ‘preachy.’ To that end, he’d also insisted on the use of the term ‘teaching’ to describe his speaking over ‘sermon’ or ‘preaching’ out of a desire to ensure people weren’t turned away by the thought of a religion-based gathering.

  Looking over at Evan, he saw the man give him a nod.

  It was time.

  Spreading his hands and raising them up, he spoke in a normal voice, allowing the microphone clipped to his lapel to do the rest.

  “Greetings, good people. Is today your best day?”

  It was an opening he’d used for years, one that originated back at his compound in Texas, and though times had gotten considerably more challenging, he still made it work.

  Start off with positivity.

  The people gathered leaned into one another, put their arms around one another, or simply held hands as they responded, “Today is my best day, and it is better with you in it.”

  Add in a sense of togetherness.

  “For those of you who have chosen to join us today, welcome, and thank you for coming. Those of us here thrive on the additions of newcomers, because in these challenging times, we know one thing is true above all else:

  “United we stand, divided we fall.

  “It’s an old saying, but an important one. Those familiar with the Bible will recall what Matthew 12:25 told us: ‘And Jesus knew their thoughts, and said unto them, Every kingdom divided against itself shall not stand.’”

  People in the crowd nodded in response, some of them adding an ‘Amen,’ to their agreement.

  “For those who are familiar with the rich history of our great country, John Dickinson, one of the Founding Fathers said in ‘The Liberty Song,’ which was written before the Revolutionary War,” Jeremiah took a breath and began to sing, “‘Then join hand in hand, brave Americans all! By uniting we stand, by div
iding we fall!’”

  Pausing, he smiled at the crowd as they cheered. A few people began the popular, “USA! USA! USA!” chant, and he let it go on for a few minutes before raising his hand once more.

  “Now, as always, I will remind everyone gathered here today of what I view as the most important thing:

  “You.

  “Are.

  “Here.

  “We have all been through incredible challenges and, simply...unbelievable struggles over the last month. We were forced from our homes, leaving behind our memories and the things we cherish most. We lost loved ones. Husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends. Fathers. Mothers. Brothers. Sisters.”

  He paused, taking a deep breath and lowering his head. He brought his hand to his mouth and covered it. Taking a deep breath, he added. “And children.”

  The crowd had gone silent at this point. The only sounds that could be heard were the soft sniffles of people mourning their losses and the nervous shuffling of feet.

  Time to lift them up.

  “But we are here.”

  Quoting Deepak Chopra, he said, “A wise man once said, ‘The best way to get rid of the pain is to feel the pain. And when you feel the pain and go beyond it, you’ll see there’s a very intense love that is wanting to awaken itself.’

  “For that reason, I encourage you to grieve. You are here. You are safe. Now is your time to grieve. Recognize that pain inside you for what it is. It’s okay to admit that you’re hurting. The relationships we hold dear are what make us human.

  “So grieve.”

  He paused again, lowering his head and nodding. After a moment, he intentionally sniffled slightly, just loud enough for the microphone to pick up, and then wiped away a forced tear. Raising his head, he lowered his voice an octave.

  “But then rise.

  “Corinthians Chapter Two, Verse Four tells us ‘We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.’