Saga of the Scout

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Saga of the Scout Page 11

by Cliff Hamrick


  But considering what she had endured at the hands of her captors, he thought that she was just searching for safety after so much trauma. Besides, Andrew and Madison didn’t seem to think anything was unusual.

  Andrew drove the SUV, and Ethan rode shotgun. Madison sat in the back seat with the redheaded girl. After packing their items for survival in the back, they drove slowly through the parking lot, weaving through wrecked and parked cars. The sun was on its way to sunset and blinded them when they looked to the west. The air was becoming cooler in the growing shadows.

  The SUV proved to be much better for traveling than the minivan. When they came to a place on the access road that was impassable, they were able to drive onto the grass without worrying about getting stuck.

  The interstate was even worse here. Too much traffic on the highway meant that cars and trucks were stacked on top of each other in tangled metal. Ethan thought that even with heavy machinery, it would take days to clear the highway.

  They drove past rows of empty businesses, convenience stores, fast food, hotels. Some were burned-out shells that could only be identified by the sign near the road. Others looked closed as if everyone took the day off.

  Ethan noticed something in the distance, parked at a gas station. Once he recognized the tan desert camouflage of the Army truck, he pointed it out to the others.

  Andrew slowed the SUV once he saw what was ahead. “What do you guys think we should do?”

  “Let’s go talk to them. Maybe they know what’s going on and can help us,” Ethan replied.

  “I don’t know. Guys with guns make me nervous.”

  Madison said, “Well, we have guns, too. And this is why we came to San Marcos. Besides, she needs to get help.”

  The redheaded girl did not speak. She just continued to search the three of them in a way that made Ethan wish he wasn’t in the same vehicle as her.

  Andrew drove the SUV until they reached the gas station. The Army vehicle was a large truck, the sort used to carry a large number of troops. Rather than carrying people, this truck was loaded with boxes and gas cans.

  Two men in desert camo fatigues, holding assault rifle stood watch over two other men in civilian clothing while they used an electric pump to pull gasoline from a hole in the ground and into a series of gas cans sitting around them.

  As the SUV approached the station, one of the soldiers held up a hand to signal for them to halt. The other soldier stood nearby, his rifle at the ready. The sound of the pump was loud as the soldier approached the driver’s side of the SUV. The civilians watched nervously.

  Reflective sunglasses obscured the soldier's eyes, but Ethan could sense him scanning the group before he spoke.

  “So, where are you all coming from?” the soldier asked. His voice was flat as if he was intentionally trying to hide any emotion in it.

  Andrew replied, “We’re coming up from New Braunfels.” Andrew also seemed less talkative, as if he were afraid to give away too much information.

  The soldier scanned them all again and nodded slightly. “How are things in New Braunfels?”

  “Bad, I suppose.”

  Ethan felt the tension and wasn’t sure how to act. The other soldier was watching them, his rifle ready but pointing at the ground in front of the SUV. In a second, he could fill the SUV with bullets. The two civilians continued to pump the gas and fill up the gas cans, eying the situation and trying to figure out the best time to run.

  Madison leaned over the back seat and said, “We were at a fire station down there. But it was overrun.”

  The soldier looked to her for a moment. “Overrun?”

  “Yes, there were some of the crazy people and some of the other ones, too.”

  “Other ones?”

  Madison paused as if his question didn’t make sense. “Yeah, you know. The ones with scars, wearing leather, look like they came out of a movie?”

  He paused again as if to take in her words. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

  Madison looked confused for a moment, and then realized what he was referring to. Her fingers rose to her mouth, and absently touched her swollen and cut lip. “Yes. This happened…after.”

  The soldier appraised her for a moment and then looked at the redheaded girl. “How about you, ma’am? Are you alright?”

  Ethan turned to look at the redheaded girl, who had yet to speak. He wondered what she would say if she could even speak at all. The girl’s eyes never left the soldier. She had the same predatory look Ethan had found disturbing since she woke up.

  He glanced at Madison, who just smiled at the girl to reassure her that everything would be alright. The soldier watched her for a moment. Then he blinked as if something just occurred to him.

  His tone turned friendly when he spoke to Andrew. “If you want shelter, then you can go to Bobcat Stadium. We have a camp set up there. There’s food, water, showers. We have a medical team that can get you checked out and some cots if you want to get some sleep.”

  Andrew looked cautiously optimistic. “Alright, thanks.”

  “Do you know the way?” The soldier smiled.

  Madison spoke up, “Yes, we can find it. Thank you!”

  The soldier nodded and waved to them. Then went back to join the other soldier, who was still at the ready. The first soldier said something to him, which Ethan could not hear. The soldier with the rifle relaxed and lowered his rifle.

  As Andrew drove away from the gas station, Ethan thought he saw a satisfied smile on the girl’s face.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  They continued on the access road for a little while, passing by more stores. The stores were in a similar condition to those that they passed earlier. They were either burned or appeared to be closed. Though, as they moved into the city, more of the stores showed signs of looting with smashed windows and stolen items cluttering the parking lot.

  These quickly gave way to large apartment complexes designed to house some of the thousands of college students and young professionals that made up a large portion of the city.

  One apartment building still burned, billowing white smoke up to the sky. Most seemed empty though Ethan saw some people sitting out on their balcony as if it were just a typical weekend in spring.

  Madison guided Andrew as he drove them into the city of San Marcos. The streets were blocked by cars in some areas, and sometimes they had to take smaller, residential streets to get around them. Tall trees cast dark shadows on the streets and in the yards of the houses. The neighborhood leading into the city was lower-income, and the houses were older. These were the neighborhoods of people who called San Marcos home rather than a place to study or work.

  The houses showed the same signs of chaos as they had seen everywhere else. Many houses seemed empty, and some were burned-out shells, a few were boarded-up. Those looked like the people inside were prepared not to be victims. Not again.

  Madison directed Andrew to take them down a larger street, which led to Bobcat Stadium, the football stadium of the local university. The street was much more orderly.

  Wrecked or parked cars were pushed to the side to keep the street clear. There were a few pickup trucks driving the street, usually loaded with boxes from grocery stores. But most of the vehicles on the road were military trucks.

  As they approached the stadium, they saw it had become a small military camp. There were some civilian cars in the parking lot where they were abandoned on the day the world went mad. Much of the parking lot, especially the entrance into the stadium, was taken over by the military.

  No one stopped them from entering the parking lot, but once they got out of the SUV, they saw many armed guards stationed in front of the large opening which led into the stadium. The four of them approached the stadium, Madison walking close to the redheaded girl to help her.

  Andrew was still cautious, but Ethan was curious if they knew anything, and he approached the entrance first. Before he could get close, three soldiers in full battle gear and assa
ult rifles approached him. One stepped forward with his hand up to halt Ethan before he could get to close.

  “No firearms past this point, sir.”

  Ethan stopped and looked confused. Then he remembered the pistol stuck in his belt.

  “You too, sir,” the soldier said to Andrew as he tried to cover his pistol with his T-shirt.

  Andrew said, “Do you think it is a good idea to disarm people? Crazy people are running around trying to kill everyone. Seems like it would be a good idea for more people to have guns, not less.”

  The soldier stared at Andrew and just repeated his statement, “No firearms past this point, sir.” The sir at the end of that statement wasn’t as polite as when he said it to Ethan.

  Ethan said, “That’s alright. I understand.” He took the gun out of his belt and held it out to the soldier who took it.

  “We’ll need to check your backpack as well.”

  Andrew said, “What the hell is this?”

  Before anyone could answer, Madison stepped past him and said to the soldier. “Is it alright if I keep my bat? It’s been pretty useful.”

  The soldier smirked, not believing that a baseball bat would be as deadly as a pistol or rifle. “Yes, ma’am, you can keep that.”

  Ethan handed his backpack to one of the other soldiers, who opened it, searched it, and tossed it back to Ethan after finding nothing. Andrew, seeing that he was out-voted by the group, handed his pistol over to the soldier.

  The redheaded girl just watched the group but was ignored by the soldiers. Ethan looked over at her while a soldier patted him down, searching for any other hidden weapons.

  Two competing thoughts jumped to his mind. The first and most reasonable was that the soldiers could easily see that she was harmless and unarmed, so they did not pay any attention to her. The second, which seemed crazy and yet felt closest to the truth, was that she made them forget about her.

  After being cleared by the soldiers, who put their guns into a locked chest with a pile of other pistols and rifles, the group was allowed to approach the entrance of the stadium. Near the entrance, a black sergeant, with a shaved head and old enough to be Ethan’s father, sat at a table with a heavy-duty laptop, the sort used by military and law enforcement. He waved him over before being allowed to go into the stadium.

  “Name?” the officer asked.

  “Ethan Swain.”

  “Date of birth?”

  “December 22, 2004.”

  “Social security number?”

  Ethan looked puzzled. He knew he had one, but he didn’t know it. His father had his card locked in a drawer in his office in San Antonio. He said that he would give it to Ethan once he decided to look for a job, but Ethan was often too busy with school and scouts to work extra. While he was trying to remember the numbers he saw on the card once, Andrew stepped towards the table.

  “Why do you need to know all this information?”

  The sergeant looked Andrew up and down, his eyes lingering on the handcuffs still attached to Andrew’s left wrist before looking up at him.

  “We’re trying to get a census of survivors so we can make a report of who had survived the incident and who had not.”

  “Incident? Is that what you’re calling this?”

  Ethan became excited at the knowledge that there was a list of survivors. He hoped that maybe his mother was on a list, too.

  Ethan asked the sergeant, who was still appraising Andrew, “Do you have a list of survivors in Austin? Maybe my mother is on that list. Her name is Michelle Swain. Or maybe Barker. I think she goes by that now.”

  The sergeant shook his head. “We don’t have any information on survivors in Austin here. I know they are making a list at Camp Mabry, but we don’t have access to it.”

  Ethan’s excited dropped. He hoped that if her name was on a list, then that would mean she was at a camp somewhere. And that would mean that she was alive and safe and he wouldn’t have to worry about her.

  The sergeant continued, “It's OK if you don’t know your social security number. What’s your blood type?”

  Andrew interjected, “Wanna know how many pubic hairs he has?”

  The sergeant slammed his fist onto the cheap plastic table, causing it to jump loudly on the concrete. “Are we going to have a problem? Because I’ve got plenty of problems without some ex-con giving me more.”

  Ethan froze at the sudden tension. He was happy that the army was setting up a camp to keep people safe. He didn’t understand why Andrew was being so difficult all of a sudden. He noticed that a couple of the soldiers with assault rifles who stood nearby changed their stance subtly, ready to deal with any problem that Andrew intended to bring.

  Andrew raised his hands and shook his head. “No. No problem. I’m just wondering why all the questions.”

  “Because this is the information we need to keep your skinny ass safe inside. If you want to go inside, then you’ll answer questions. If you don’t want to answer questions, then just get your ass out of here. Understand?”

  Andrew nodded. His eyes seethed with frustration at being talked down to and not being able to do anything about it. But he wasn’t stupid.

  The sergeant continued to ask Ethan questions, while a couple of soldiers watched Andrew, who did not interrupt any further. Ethan thought the questions were rather common. Blood type? Home address? Emergency contact? Once those questions were answered, Ethan was sent to a small military-style tent behind the table. The lieutenant asked Madison the same series of questions next, making Andrew wait a bit longer.

  Ethan entered the tent and paused while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. A woman in her early thirties in fatigues, with a stethoscope dangling from her neck told him to sit in a chair. Her blond hair was cut into a short, pixie hairstyle. She asked him a series of medical questions and typed his answers into a military laptop.

  Ethan was glad that Andrew wasn’t with him because her questions were even more invasive. Drug allergies? Food allergies? Past injuries and surgeries? Infectious diseases? Current medications? Then she checked his chest with her stethoscope, his blood pressure, and even pricked his finger to take a blood sample, entering her findings into the laptop.

  While she was at her work, Ethan asked, “What’s going on? What’s been happening?”

  She didn’t look at his face except to check his pupil response. “There has been an incident, and we are getting control of the situation.”

  Ethan thought it sounded like something she was reading from a script. “Do you know what is going on in Austin? How bad is it there?”

  She paused at that but still didn’t look at his face. “The US Army is working with the local authorities to get control of the situation.”

  Ethan was getting frustrated. The answers were vague, and he got the feeling that even the soldier didn’t believe what she was saying. “Is there a way I can call my mom. I know her number, maybe an old phone would work?”

  She sighed. “Maybe. We’re working on that. Old phones are hard to come by.”

  She finished up with him and sent him out of the tent. She never looked Ethan in the eye during the examination. When Ethan emerged out of the tent, Madison stood outside with the redheaded girl. The girl looked down at her feet, but Ethan felt like it was an act. He noticed that though her face was down, her eyes scanned him from the side.

  Madison smiled at him, a hopeful look on her face. “How did it go?”

  Ethan shrugged slightly. His hope was dimming with each evasive answer. “You know, it's just like going to the doctor’s office.”

  Madison led the redheaded girl into the tent, and Ethan walked towards the entrance into the stadium. He noticed that the lieutenant was still asking Andrew questions. The soldiers stood closer now, and Ethan hoped that Andrew wouldn’t cause trouble.

  He didn’t want Andrew to be sent away. Or worse.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Ethan entered the stadium. It was getting cool now. The sun was set
ting, and the shadows were long in the stadium, casting much of the open area into darkness.

  There were a variety of tents set up in rows and columns on what used to be the football field. Ethan entered on the fifty-yard line and could see in both directions. The tents were a mishmash of military-style tents and civilian tents for camping. Many of the tents were big enough to hold a large family.

  Near one of the end zones, the military set up a larger tent that was a command post by the presence of even more military near there, and a satellite dish attached to a tall pole. Near the command post were two large trailers. Solar panels covered one, and the other was a gas-powered generator.

  At the other end of the field was an open area which served as the mess hall, though there was no hall. Most of the civilians were at that end, so Ethan walked in that direction.

  He felt his stomach grumble as he got closer and could smell the food better. There was a long table with paper plates and plastic eating utensils, which looked like they were taken from a grocery store.

  People lined up to get their share of the food, which was being spooned out by another civilian, a smiling middle-aged Hispanic man.

  The people were from all walks of life. Some were very elderly and reminded Ethan of Mrs. Martinez. Some were families with children, though he noticed that most of the families only had one parent. A female soldier escorted a trio of Hispanic children, two boys, and a girl, and spoke Spanish to them reassuringly. Ethan wondered where their parents were.

  Some people appeared to be well-off, but most appeared to be poor. Some were grateful for the food and thanked the person serving them. Others grumbled about how cold it was getting at night. Most people just stared off into the distance quietly. Other than the soldier with the children, none of the other soldiers stood in line. He noticed they all stayed at the other end of the field.

  While he was waiting, holding his paper plate and plastic spoon, he noticed Madison through the crowd of people and walking towards him, the redheaded girl following. He waved to Madison, who smiled and waved back once she saw him.

 

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