Surviving Rage | Book 5
Page 30
With his assignment complete, he turned and made his way across the dark expanse of the yard, disappearing into the night.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Oklahoma City Protective Zone, Oklahoma
Day 5
Sitting with his back against the thick trunk of the Shumard Oak, Anfernie Jeffries' back hurt. After escaping along the riverfront, he and Snyder had spent the next hour looking for somewhere to spend the night but had failed repeatedly. The area they were in was more industrial than residential, and when they finally found their way over to where the civilian residence halls were, they’d been confronted by roving patrols (civilians, by all appearances) that exuded vigilance. Their presence, and even more so, their demeanor, struck both he and Snyder as odd. Wasn’t the Protective Zone a safe place? Wasn’t that the whole reason it’d been established? People inside the base at Mount Weather seemed anxious, worried about the future, and at times impatient, but never once did they come across as afraid of their neighbors. If anything, the sense of community was strong.
What was so different here?
Realizing the residence halls were too risky, they moved on, but not before finding a pair of sneakers for Snyder to put on his bruised and cut feet. Finding and taking them had been surprisingly difficult, thanks to the roving safety patrols, but it’d been worth the effort, even if they were a full size too small for Snyder’s feet. The big guy had kept pace with Jeffries as they rushed through the side streets of the city, but he’d been noticeably limping, and every Marine knew that their feet were their weakest link.
Finally, shortly before three a.m., they’d found the large, tree-filled park that bordered the residential areas of the city. Waiting near the edge of the park, they’d watched as military vehicles passed by routinely, keeping watch over the area. It was a marked difference from the areas near the residence halls, and it told Jeffries that the area was likely occupied by the officers and senior enlisted leaders assigned to the Protective Zone. Not knowing who they could trust, he and Snyder opted to spend the remainder of the night in the park, taking turns sleeping under the bush while the other one kept an eye out for trouble. Though he’d tried to get Snyder to rest first, the younger man insisted that Jeffries sleep.
“I need some time to rub these dogs,” he explained, peeling off the sneakers. “Probably got some glass in ‘em, too.”
Jeffries was about to warn the man against using a flashlight, but quickly realized that they didn’t have anything of the sort. They’d literally escaped with nothing more than the clothes on their backs.
‘After we get some real clothes, we’ll have to figure out how to get some weapons,’ he told himself before rolling over and resting his head on the exposed root of the bush. Seconds later, he was asleep.
Snyder had woken him as scheduled, a mere two hours later, just before five a.m. Feeling ironically amused, Jeffries realized that the man’s watch was the sole piece of tactical gear the two of them had.
So here he was, looking at Snyder’s watch, which he held in his hand (the band was too big to stay on his wrist), waiting for the hands to indicate seven o’clock. As he waited, he was barely aware of the pain in his back and neck. Instead, his mind was busy replaying the events of the early morning over and over. Thinking of the Marines he’d lost, he was riddled with guilt. They were under his charge, and their well-being was his responsibility.
Well, you certainly failed there, Anfernie.
What could he have done differently? He wondered.
Sneak back inside, lie in wait, disarm one of the men and take on the group that had assaulted the building?
That was not a move that held a high probability of success. Against amateurs, it had an outside chance of working, but the men he’d seen were soldiers, and not just any soldiers. They were clearly American soldiers, which meant they were trained in a manner similar to how he’d been trained. Sure, they were Army soldiers, not Marines, but while there some service-specific tactics he’d learned that were different from what they were taught, the basic building clearing and assault tactics they employed were similar to what he’d learned for one simple reason: they were effective. That made them hard to counter. That made the possibility of him taking them on extremely foolhardy. To make matters worse, they’d been wearing full tactical gear, with body armor and helmets, while he was wearing a t-shirt and cargo shorts.
At best, he’d take one of them down before falling under a rain of bullets.
At worst, he’d take a bullet to his chest before he even laid a hand on one of the men.
Looking over at the bush that Snyder slept under, he realized he had to take temporary solace in the fact that he’d at least managed to save one of his Marines. It’d been pure luck that the two of them ended up on the roof at the time that the assault occurred, but he wasn’t about to write off their descent from the building’s roof as pure luck. It’d been challenging, and even now he found it hard to believe that they’d used coaxial cable to climb down the side of the four story building. Everything that happened during their escape, every single part of it had carried with it the chance of being discovered and likely killed. If the knot had been seen, if the cable had been noticed, if someone had looked out the window, if the men had seen Snyder during his descent, if they hadn’t made it to the bushes before the men emerged from the building...if any one of those things had gone wrong, their fate might have been different.
But they hadn’t.
He and Snyder were alive.
And being alive meant they had a chance to make those men (and whoever ordered it) pay for what they’d done.
Fuck that.
Not just a chance.
It was their new mission.
One they’d complete or die trying.
Looking at the watch, he saw it was five after seven.
Shit.
Reaching over with his foot, he nudged Snyder. The man woke instantly. Squinting, he stretched awkwardly on the ground. “Shit,” he said in a hushed tone. “That fuckin’ sucked. I think one of this bush’s roots was poking me in the ass.”
Rolling his eyes, Jeffries shook his head. “Tell you what, when we’re done taking care of business you can come back and have some alone time with the bush.”
“Promise?”
Ignoring the man’s response, Jeffries rose slowly to his feet and stuck his hand out, passing Snyder his watch. “Come on. We’ve got a lot to figure out if we’re gonna get those motherfuckers back.”
Snyder’s joviality disappeared instantly. “Fuckin’ A, Gunny,” he replied, nodding. “Let’s fucking do this.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Oklahoma City Protective Zone, Oklahoma
Day 5
Tightening the hair tie that held her ponytail in place, Lisa smiled as she looked in the mirror. As she did so, she realized it felt slightly weird. Though she knew it wasn’t the case, it seemed like it’d been months since she’d enjoyed the simple act of smiling. After all, there seemed to be so little to be happy about. Things had been so bad as of late, and though they’d undeniably made progress in the battle against the virus, that progress had come to a screeching halt, and now they were forced to pursue the only option they had left: essentially reverse engineering an immunity by using the blood of someone who was immune.
Without question, it was a long shot.
It also was the only shot.
Regardless of the desperation that hung over them and their efforts, she couldn’t deny the fact that she felt good, and she’d be damned before she’d allow herself to feel guilty about it. The bottom line was that (a) they’d safely made it to the Protective Zone, effectively completing a military-style mission, (b) they’d be able to get into the lab at the Oklahoma Medical Research Foundation today, and (c) both Jonathan and Isabella, the young girl who held the hope they so desperately needed, would be arriving later in the day.
All in all, it was hard not to feel excited by what the day had in store.
Jonathan.
She’d been worried about him since the second he’d left Mount Weather, headed across the country in a C-17 yet again, and when she’d heard the initial report of the aircraft he was in being shot down, she’d hurriedly retreated to the women’s room, where she’d broken down in tears, unable to control her emotions at the thought of having lost him.
Though their relationship was new, and though she’d originally questioned whether or not what she felt for him was a product of their environment (filled with fear over the possibility that the world was ending, desperate for someone or something to hold onto, forced to exist within a tightly controlled safe zone, physically cut off from the rest of the world), they’d both come to realize that aside from the obvious physical attraction they felt for one another, there was something more: a deep respect and admiration for each other.
Although it seemed like such a simple thing, that respect (not just towards her, but for him) was something that had eluded her for all too long. She wasn’t unaware of the fact that men found her attractive. She also wasn’t unaware of the fact that being a highly paid neurologist made her a “catch.”
Looks and well (okay, very well) paid?
Yeah, she’d never been at a loss for would-be suitors.
Unfortunately, they’d all fell into one of three categories: good looking and successful, but unable to deal with her career standing (both in terms of income and respect), unattractive and successful, but constantly jealous and worried over how attractive she was to others, or rich, good looking, and arrogant to the point of suggesting she “didn’t need to work,” as if she did what she did out of financial necessity.
Jonathan was the first person who truly saw her for who she was, likely because he was so similar.
It wasn’t arrogant for either of them to say they were the among the best in their fields (his was hematology, hers neurology), and being so good at it made them want to excel even more, as opposed to simply resting on their laurels. That drive made them intense, driven, and, to be honest, a bit impatient. Those who didn’t understand that didn’t understand them.
Jonathan did understand her, and that fact alone was enough to make her want to give him a chance.
His looks and recently improved muscularity didn’t hurt, either.
As a matter of fact, as soon as she could get him alone -
A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.
‘Probably for the best,’ she thought, as she took a deep breath. ‘No need to go there.’
Walking across the small, single windowed room, she opened the door. Andrew’s smiling face greeted her.
“Good morning!” he said cheerfully, smiling.
“Good morning, Andrew,” she replied.
“Sleep well?”
“Definitely,” she answered, nodding. “It was nice to feel safe for a change. How about you?”
“Great,” he said, smiling. “And you’re right. It was nice, not having to worry about who might be out there, or if someone would try to attack us, like those jerks in Tennessee.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sure they regretted their decision,” Lisa replied, pulling the door shut behind her as she stepped out into the hallway.
“No doubt.”
Hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway before a small group of men appeared. All three were armed in tactical gear and moved with purpose.
“What’s going on?” Andrew asked, as they approached.
The man in the middle, whose name tag read ‘Cotton’ shook his head in response. “Nothing, Doctor, just sorry we’re late.”
Andrew drew back slightly. “Late? It’s only seven thirty. We were just planning on grabbing some breakfast before we went to the lab.”
Cotton brought his hand up. “No need, Sir. We’ll escort you to the lab, and we’ll provide a menu for you to select from. There’s a kitchen in the building, so they’ll make whatever you like.”
“Oh,” Andrew replied, feeling slightly confused. He looked away as he thought, then back at the man. “But last night we told Staff Sergeant Jeffries and the others that we’d meet them for breakfast.”
Cotton shook his head. “Yeah, sorry, but they’ve been assigned to the security patrol for the P.Z. We’re short-handed, so we need all the help we can get.”
Andrew frowned. “Well, that’s...unfortunate.”
The other man shrugged. “Like I said, sorry.”
“Okay,” Andrew replied, before looking over at Lisa, he asked, “Is that alright with you, Doctor Bowman? Getting breakfast over at the lab?”
Lisa thought about it for a second. While she’d hoped to be able to enjoy breakfast with the Marines, in particular Healey, who she’d begun to form a genuine friendship with, she was anxious to see the lab and to begin setting up. She shrugged. “Okay,” she relented.
Major Cotton smiled. “Great. That’s great. Okay, well, if you’ll follow me then.”
“Alright,” Andrew replied, before adding, “but I’d like to check up on the Marines later today. See how they’re doing.”
“Sounds good, Sir. I’ll make sure you’re updated on their status later today,” Cotton said, with a smile.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Oklahoma City Protective Zone, Oklahoma
Day 5
Michael Tinsley stared up at the Iron Man action figure in his hand as he moved it through the air above his head, making it ‘fly’ around. He made it pull up into a vertical pose, then lifted both of the arms so the hands were facing out in front of it.
“Weeeeet!” he whispered softly, imitating the sound of Iron Man’s pulsers powering up, before he realized he’d made the sounds out loud. His eyes grew wide as his breath caught in his throat.
Allen, his thirteen year-old brother, was sleeping on the bunk below him, and he’d already made it clear on multiple occasions that he would ‘kill’ Michael if he was woken up. Standing at five-foot six, he was taller than Michael by five inches, and there was little doubt in either of their minds that he would dominate any physical altercation between the two of them.
After nearly a full minute of hearing nothing, Michael finally exhaled softly. He lowered his Iron Man figure down to his chest and took a moment to calm his nerves. Of course, he knew there really wasn’t any real reason for him to be that worried about Allen. The older boy had always looked after him no matter what the situation. Back home in Shreveport, Louisiana, Allen had always been there to ensure no one picked on Michael, and that only made him an even bigger hero in the eyes of a little brother who already worshipped him.
Even so, Michael would have given him a good punch in the arm for his indiscretion, just to make sure he still knew who the boss was. He’d been lucky.
He began “flying” his action figure around above his head once more, making every effort to remain as quiet as possible. At one point Iron Man nearly slipped from his grasp, but his small fingers caught it just in time, saving him.
Time passed, and he began to get bored of playing with just the one figure. He had managed to save one more action figure during their frenzied escape from their hometown, a Spider-Man one.
‘Where did I leave it,’ he wondered, sitting up slowly. As he did, the covers pulled back, revealing Spider-Man’s red and blue form before causing him to tumble off the side of the bed. It fell down to the floor, clattering loudly.
‘Oh no…’ he thought, tensing up reflexively.
Nothing. No movement below, no sounds of Allen stirring.
Holding his breath once more, he leaned forward, trying to see if his brother was awake. What he saw made him frown instead. His brother’s pillow, along with the cheap wool blanket the military had issued, were both on the floor near the middle of the room. Unable to control his bewilderment, he muttered, “What the heck?” as he leaned out further.
Moving quickly to the ladder, he climbed down and glanced at his brother’s bed once more, confirming once more that it was, indeed, empty. Feeling a slight breeze, he turned and looked at the window. It was fully open, as were the ugly, flowered drapes that framed them.
He glanced at the door and saw that the internal latch was still closed, a precaution their parents insisted they take each night. It could only be locked that way from the inside of the room.
“Michael?” he asked in the empty room, wishing desperately that his brother would somehow come out from behind the nightstand (too small to hide behind) or under the bed (too low to hide beneath).
After thirty seconds of silence, he turned, quickly stepped into his sneakers, threw back the latch on the door, and raced out of the room. He had to wake up his parents. He had to tell them.
Allen was gone.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
San Francisco Protective Zone, California
Day 4
Rolling over in bed, Serafina stretched each of her limbs out as far as they would go. Yawning loudly, she looked over at the other side of the bed. It was empty. She wondered what time Daniel had gotten up, but then remembered that he’d still been at the dining table, trying to decode the messages he was reviewing when she’d gone to bed. She’d reminded him of the fact that he had a tendency to get frustrated when he focused on a challenge for too long without taking a break, but he’d shrugged it off.
‘Too important,’ he’d said, sitting back and rubbing his eyes. Rising from his chair, he’d walked to the kitchen, where he refilled his coffee cup before returning to the dining table.
Pulling on her robe, she checked the time.