For Which We Stand: Ian's road (A Five Roads To Texas Novel Book 3)

by Joseph Hansen

  “So, you’re saying that before they get boots on the ground, they will make sure the land itself is safe?” the captain plied.

  “Exactly. That also means the first airports they set up camp in will most likely be close to facilities that could cause environmental calamities.” Toby was so confident in his theory that he stopped talking and backed away from the table to let the others hash it out as he continued to work it through in his own mind.

  “I think Toby has something there,” Ian said.

  “I agree. If you think about it, it’s the only way to secure the real estate so it is of any use,” Kinsey added.

  The captain was not fully convinced. “I can see the logic, but to send their science team without having the areas secure, as well as no support, is ludicrous.”

  “We don’t know what kind of support they have or are sending with the preservation team, but it’s the only explanation that makes sense. I think we have to assume that’s what is going here,” Ian said.

  “So, you think they are sending crews here to run our refineries and nuke facilities?”

  “No, more likely they want to shut them down safely and possibly take all of the plutonium back home with them. Either way, we know they have to take these things into consideration, or the North American continent could become uninhabitable,” Kinsey said.

  “The entire country? You don’t think you’re exaggerating a little?” Captain Ricoh asked.

  Toby added his opinion to Kinsey’s. “No, unfortunately I don’t. All of our facilities going belly-up within a six-month period could create such a toxic environment that virtually everything would die. Trust me when I say they don’t want that to happen.”

  Tops folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Well, a science team can’t be too difficult to fight.”

  “Fight? What are you talking about? Are you daft?” Toby asked, surprising everyone.

  “I am not going to let them take over our nuclear infrastructure.” Tops was adamant.

  “If not them, then who?” the captain said, suddenly understanding Toby’s point.

  “Exactly. We are suddenly unable to take care of our own shit because they killed everyone, but they are set up and ready to do what needs to be done. Trying to stop the science team could doom us all to a nuclear wasteland,” Toby finished.

  “So are we supposed to tell the troops that they just have to sit and watch for a while? It’s not going to go over well,” Tops said.

  “We won’t be idle. We have to secure all of these supplies at another facility, recruit fighters, fight infected, and keep whatever NORK forces that do arrive off of our back. Until that science team gets here, though, it is game-on at the airport.” Captain Ricoh left no doubt he would not be swayed from his opinion on this subject.

  Ian again disagreed. He thought it should be hands-off until they get shit stabilized, but he kept his mouth shut. “Has anybody heard from the Navy?” Ian asked. “Surely, there must be something available to us from that end.”

  “We have had some garbled responses to our email and one who says they are running some frigates and marine transport south of here, but unfortunately, that is mainly equipment and, we are not suffering from a deficit in that department. They will try to connect with more of their own, but that’s not looking good along the West Coast. Their ships are still out there for now, but there doesn’t seem to be anything more than thousands of infected occupying them.”

  “What about our troops that were overseas?” Ian pressed.

  “In the last few days of communication, we found out that overseas bases had been overrun and the personnel scattered. Whether they are able to find their way home or not is anybody’s guess. We have had no word from Seoul and are assuming it was destroyed.”

  “Well, Captain, if you don’t need us here, my team and I are going to move east,” Ian said.

  “East? How far east?”

  “DC, if we can get there. I’m sure the bastards have already started clearing the infected out of our nation’s capital.”

  “All right, I had a suspicion you were getting ready to leave, so I brought you this.” The captain pulled out a small box from his satchel.

  Ian couldn’t contain his sarcasm. “A sat phone… I’ve always wanted one of these.”

  “Stow it, I need you to give me regular updates as you cross the country. That may change as we find more officers surviving, but for now, I’m it… and we’re going to do it my way.”

  “Fair enough. I enjoyed the song by Ol’ Blue Eyes too,” Ian said, and the captain rolled his eyes.

  “When do you leave?”

  “Now. I’d like to be in open country by sundown.”

  “Well… good luck then, and keep your eyes to the sky. Especially around cities.” The captain held out his hand, and Ian took it.

  “Interstate forty huh?” Kinsey said, not relishing her task.

  “Yup, it looks like the straightest, fastest route,” Ian replied.

  “It’s going to be a fucking mess, is what it is going to be. Do you know how many cities we have to go through?”

  “A lot. I don’t care if it takes us a week, it looks like our best bet.”

  “A week? Try a month, Big Shooter. If we’re lucky,” she said, certain of her speculation.

  Kinsey’s mind was working in a way that was new to Ian. She was no longer his employee, and she made her own decisions, one of which was to stay with him and Toby. He didn’t know why they stayed with him on this crazy mission—if it could even be called a mission—but he was grateful.

  “Oh well, what the fuck… I guess,” Kinsey said as she slipped the lever into third. Ian, Kinsey, Toby, and Jasper made it to Albuquerque in just under three days, and it wasn’t pretty. Their truck had turned to shit with all the bodies they had to blast through and vehicles that needed to be moved. They needed a new vehicle, possibly an MRAP if they could find one, but that would limit them. They would also check the railyards though due to how well the last ride suited them and MRAPs are limited on visibility and maneuverability. Another semi-style rig like their current ride would be ideal, so they were going to have to search out the train depots and maintenance sheds to find one.

  Adding to their worries, was the city they had left behind. On their second day of travel they found via the sat phone that Iranian ground-clearing forces arrived in Phoenix, and probably elsewhere. The entire city had turned into a war zone. The temptation to go back was there, but all of them felt what was going on in DC could be a whole lot worse. So, Ian and his team decided to keep rolling to the New Mexico safe house.

  Unlike the safe house in Phoenix, which was an older warehouse big enough to store massive amounts of equipment, the one in Albuquerque was set up more as a compound. It had multiple outbuildings surrounding a steel-sided facility and lots of open space behind a twelve-foot chain link fence topped with razor wire.

  They circled the compound several times before they decided to try the gate. The area was sparsely populated before the infection and practically devoid of infected now, but they remained vigilant as Ian punched the code into the gate. The green light flashed, and the lock released. They drove in and around the main building to what appeared to be hangars, based on their Quonset styling. They pulled up to the back door, next to the keypad, and punched in the same code as the gate. Nothing happened.

  They had been expecting this. Since Sanjay was dead, it stood to reason that they would alter what codes they could, remotely. Fortunately for them, Toby was an electronics wizard and not only had the door open but had changed the code to “Josesucks.” Needless to say, Toby was a little put-off by Jose leaving the team. They had been close, and their split had been friendly, but it hurt, so Toby couldn’t help but put in a Jose barb every chance he got, which was a couple times a day, at least.

  Inside, they found a large wall board that covered more than twenty feet in length along one wall. On a corner of it, they found a floorplan of the compound,
showing where everything was located inside the main building, as well as in the Quonsets.

  The number of military items the compound held was alarming. What was even more alarming was that the vehicles, including helicopters, were all American issue. None of them knew what to make of this, and Ian decided to have a long discussion with the captain later that evening.

  They entered a room that was lined with an entire wall of communications systems, much like they had in Arizona, but bigger and more elaborate. It had a large digital counter high on the wall, much like the stock ticker on what used to be Wall Street or a grain exchange, except this had a small MHz symbol on the right side on the display.

  “What the fuck is this place, Toby?” Ian asked, not really wanting to hear what he was going to say since he already had his suspicions.

  “It’s scanning frequencies, and quickly. I think the real question is why is it all turned on? None of the other bases were.”

  All three were instantly on guard, with rifles and infrared beams searching for potential threats.

  “Look at the floor,” Kinsey said.

  “Dust. You’re right… nobody has been here in a while. It doesn’t look like the dust has been disturbed or anything shifted since long before the infection began,” Ian said, and Toby nodded as Kinsey looked at the monitor.

  “Why is that one stopped at 138 MHz?” she asked.

  “I don’t know… let’s find out.” Toby sauntered up to the chair in front the transmit area. He flipped a switch, and a speaker spit out a burst of feedback. Then he spun the dial so the digital counter in front of him mirrored the one on the wall.

  The radio broke in halfway through a transmission. “—o railroad jobs out here.”

  “Santa Fe Western rail inspection; how can we help you today?” Toby replied sarcastically to the female who was on the line.

  “Listen, smart ass, you need to get the fuck out of there ASAP.”

  “Petey, they’ve turned off 40, heading south on 45,” a female voice said over his radio.

  “I’ll watch for them, Gloria. Do they look military?”

  “No, they look like railroad workers. The truck says Santa Fe Western. Is that still in business?”

  “How would I fucking know? Louisa, do you copy?”

  “If you mean do I hear you, the answer is yes. Even miles away, you still sound like a dumbass, Petey.” Louisa was more than a little perturbed at being forced to watch healthy people going about their own business. It was bad enough when they made her lure infected into buildings, and now they wanted her to track strangers? She just wasn’t cut out for this shit.

  “That’s great, sweetie. Hey… why don’t we get a dog, so you have something to kick other than me.”

  “I would, but then you wouldn’t get no lovin’ at all,” Louisa said with a smile, though she half meant it.

  Petey was a great guy and a lot of fun here and there, but he wasn’t relationship material. It was kind of a cruel joke from God that one of the only survivors of the infection was the knob from high school. The last time they had sex, she had a memory flash of his sweaty palms that all the girls complained about during square dances at school.

  Gloria interrupted. “Knock it off, you two. Petey, look to the south, right there on 25… do you have eyes on them?” Her status in their group was tenuous, as her only experience with the military was that she had a son in boot camp when the world went to shit.

  “I see a truck, but that’s not the 25.”

  “Fucking-A Petey. It is too the 25, you moron.”

  “No, it isn’t, Gloria. It’s the 45 that drops down from 40 to join up with 25. See, they’re going south on to 25 right now.”

  “God fucking help me if we’re going to survive this apocalypse. I need head counts, and do they have any weapons?” Brendan shouted over the other three, who were a little put out that they had to track this truck after it was spotted. In truth, who cares? There is enough food and everything for people to survive on, so just let them be—at least, they thought that would be for the best.

  Brendan and Cliff were pretty much the men in charge and came in just behind Renee. As a whole, they wanted this truck tracked.

  “We’ve seen a lot of activity down south and Renee thinks something is going down. She and Cliff are down in Los Lunas Valentia area.”

  “It’s bull shit, and you know it, Brendan,” Louisa spat then added, “Looks like three and a dog. Small arms is all I can see.”

  “I’ll relay that. There might be something to this, this time around, kids. That group we’ve been tracking down by the border is on the move again. This time they are headed north, straight toward us,” Brendan said.

  “Prolly just pedophiles and rapists,” Petey said, which in itself might have been tasteless humor but the grunt, snort or maybe cough that ended the sentence by Petey gave it a coating of slime all its own.

  “Ah, okay, Petey… hopefully Gloria will still pick you up on the way down here. Louisa, keep eyes on them as long as you can.”

  “Ah… that’s a no shit, Sherlock. Out.” Louisa mocked a professional tone but not very well.

  “All right, they’re out of sight. Gloria, pick me up on 25. I got some lurchers joining the party down here.”

  “Copy,” Gloria said as she tried hard not to just drive by Petey. “Get in the back,” she said after slamming the passenger door lock down.

  He whined.

  “No! Get in the back!”

  She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she could pretty much predict it. Gloria started to take off. He screamed, opened the back door, and tried to jump in while running, almost falling under the SUV.

  “You never let me sit up front,” he complained.

  “Yeah, there’s a reason for that. Now sit back and enjoy the scenery.”

  A few minutes later they slowed to pick up Louisa. Petey started to make a play for the front seat but was forced back inside by Louisa’s gun, where he slumped back and pouted.

  “Really, Petey, how fucking old are you?” Louisa scolded.

  “You said they had a dog?” Gloria asked.

  “Yeah, a big one too.”

  “Cool, I miss dogs.”

  “Yeah, the ones we see are so afraid of people they will probably never be pets again,” Louisa said, thinking of her shih tzu that didn’t make it past day one of the infection.

  “I don’t know, that black-and-white collie seems to be coming closer and closer every day,” Gloria replied.

  “We should kill it. It keeps bringing in more infected,” Petey said from the back seat.

  “If I ever find that dog dead from a gunshot wound, I will be shoving your nuts down your throat, Petey… you feel me?” Louisa snarled as Gloria glared at him in the mirror.

  Petey nodded.

  “That dog has become your new sacred cow, Petey. Anything happens to it, and you will pay,” Gloria, who rarely made threats, added.

  Petey gulped and looked away. After another fifteen minutes they slowed, and Brendan hopped in beside Petey.

  “They went to that fenced-in area south of Los Lunas,” Brendan said.

  Gloria chuckled. “You mean the one that rich guy was going to build that spaceport in? Branson, I think was his name, or Elan Musk, or some such stupid shit. I’m pretty sure he is a creeper now.”

  “I wonder if we’ll have rockets again.”

  “Shut up, Petey. For fuck’s sake, just try not to say anything stupid for ten minutes, okay?” Louisa reproached.

  “That’s the place; however, we have no clue what’s inside. Other than these people. They knew the code, too, so Cliff is asking if we want to contact them.”

  “He’s asking us?” Gloria was a little taken aback.

  “Yeah, he says it is too big of a decision without everyone’s input,” Brendan said. “I say yes.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Louisa said.

  “Yep, it would be nice to get news… from anywhere, really. For all we know, t
hey could be hooked up with that Arizona group sending out all of that propaganda.”

  “I say no. They could be slavers or marauders,” Petey said.

  Louisa keyed her mic. “Yes, we all agree. Contact them, and we’ll be there in ten.”

  “Hey, I didn’t agree.”

  “Oh come on Petey, be serious. Nobody listens to your stupid shit,” Gloria admonished.

  “Stupid? I have a PhD. Nobody else here as a PhD in engineering… you should all be calling me doctor.”

  “Engineering? Acoustics is not engineering,” Louisa said. “How can someone so dumb be so educated? I mean, you don’t know your head from your ass, but you know how many decibels it takes to shatter a rat’s eardrum.”

  “That’s not true, I mean… I don’t consider rat ears to have an actual drum, not in the traditional sense, it still has a cochlear canal an—”

  “Shut up, Petey!” all three said in unison.

  They took El Cerro Mission Boulevard to 263, where they found the road that led them back to the recently established spaceport that was going to be the new boom to their economy. Now the point was moot, but none of them thought the site had ever been functioning, let alone supplied. Now it appeared the electronics to run the security systems was still operational because this group just walked in, but what does that have to do with the railroad? If they went by the logo on the truck, that’s what they were. However, the Santa Fe Western wasn’t right.

  “Hey,” Gloria started then paused to make sure she had their attention. “Santa Fe Western isn’t even a railroad anymore, if it ever was. They are a part of Burlington Northern, you know… BNSF.”

  “Are you saying they are some kind of posers or something?”

  “Shut up, Petey. I am saying that they probably stole the truck, but that still doesn’t explain why it has a fake name on it.”

  “You’re right,” Brendan said.

  “I don’t think we should trust people who steal a truck,” Petey said in an authoritative tone.