by Harp, Wilson
“There’re other command centers?” Ted asked. “Which means you have a better picture of the world than we have. How bad is it?”
“It’s bad. It’s real bad. We have maybe a million people under Midwest Command, maybe twice that many on the West Coast, and maybe as many on the East Coast. Down in Gulf Command they have five to six million, but that’s because the closer to the equator the less damage was done. At least on the dark side.”
“Houston? Miami? They’re okay?” I asked
“I wouldn’t say that. Austin and San Antonio fared a lot better than Houston did. Haven’t heard much from Miami, so we assume they aren’t doing real well. Baton Rouge is a complete mess, although out in the swamp areas there are some small bands who are faring well.”
“And this area?” Ted asked. “It’s doing well I assume?”
“We’re doing well, as well as can be expected. Maybe a little better. It’s helped we have strict control over trade and migration. And that brings me to you folks. You were heading toward us on purpose. Correct?”
Ted nodded. “Right. We had been advised by the military down in Cape this would be the best place to rest and resupply.”
“I understand why they would send you this way,” said Andrews. “We supply them with men and support when we can. Of course, our resources are limited, but they help keep our south flank secure.”
“I’m assuming problems with Saint Louis,” Ted said. “Big metropolitan area. Lots of people. Panic, stress, riots.”
“All of that plus some of the communities along the river moved inland. The military base seemed like the best place to get help or at least find protection. But some came demanding we do something for them, and in most cases, we were barely able to help ourselves. After a week or so, I secured the base and shut it down. We had weeks of riots all around the fence line. People tried to break in, climb fences, and even charge the gates with working vehicles they found. Eventually I gave the order to repel any attackers with lethal force.”
“You had your troops fire on desperate people?” Kenny asked.
“It wasn’t an easy decision. We tried bringing people in a little at a time, set them up in housing, gave them food, and found things for them to help with. But within an hour or two, crowds would gather and storm the gates. They would push and shove, trample others who had been waiting in line. Again and again they would surge forward, throw rocks and bottles at the gate guards. We would have to shut the gates and let them riot. Eventually they started trying to climb the barbed wire. They would cut up carpeting and throw it over the top. They would get cut up anyway, and with no medical help, they would suffer infections and injuries. Packs of men roved the camps of desperate people. They would take whatever they wanted, including women and children. They would murder people and leave their bodies rotting in the sun. My soldiers couldn’t stand it. They begged me for weeks to let them shoot and disperse the murderous gangs. One night, several men breached the fence line and killed two of my airmen. They grabbed their weapons and fired on the gatehouse from behind. I sent the order that my men were to protect the base with all force necessary, including lethal options. The next day was a blood bath at the front gate. Some of the men armored up an old car and smashed it into the gate. They started firing on my soldiers as they tried to remove the vehicle. I ordered my snipers to open up, and we killed thirty of them. After that, there were some minor instances of rioting, but those who preyed on the weak and helpless stayed out of rifle range.”
“Thirty?” Ted asked. “How many more were part of the assault?”
“Close to four hundred from our estimates.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Four hundred men determined to break into a military installation when armed men stood against them. These were people who were truly desperate, or truly delusional. Maybe they just felt raw numbers would win the day.
“That’s why you have so many people inside,” Anne said. “The violence and destruction got bad enough, they were willing to trade any freedom for safety.”
“You have it precisely correct,” Andrews said. “Those people out there want to live, even if it means living by my orders. And they do it happily. And willingly. Any one of them who is not a threat to our community or efforts are free to go wherever and whenever they want.”
“What would constitute a threat?” Anne asked. “Would disagreeing with your methods make someone a threat?”
Andrews leaned back and looked at Anne. “I’m guessing you’ve actually been through one of the cities,” he said. “Maybe not, though. Maybe you just saw something from a distance and you haven’t had to actually crawl through the destruction.
“Let me say this very clearly. If you don’t like what I’m doing, I’m not going to hang you for it. If you tell other people you don’t like what I’m doing, I’m not going to hang you for it. If you try to undermine my authority by organizing something outside of my command which can be construed as a threat to this base or our mission of rebuilding this country, I will hang you. Is that clear?”
Anne sat back. She twisted her mouth and I could tell a retort was on the tip of her tongue.
“Now, let’s get to the question which had me bring you in today.” He turned to me. “What makes you leave your cozy little town of Kenton and drag three of your friends through the freezing snow into dangerous lands?”
“My family was in Chicago during the event, and I need to go back there and find them,” I said.
“Do you think they’re alive or dead?”
“I have no idea, but I have to find out.”
Andrews leaned across the table. “You don’t want to know. You don’t need to know. You’ve given up.”
“What? You think this is a waste of time? You think I don’t need to know?”
“You don’t need to know!”
“How can you say that?”
“Because I don’t need to know!” he yelled back. “I’m in the same situation. My daughter and her husband are out in Colorado Springs. We have communication with the academy there. They were hit hard with disease before we were able to make contact. They only have about four thousand survivors. There’s a list of names, a census they took. I haven’t read the list because I don’t want to read the list. I can’t read the list. If I read the list I’m going to know one way or another, and I still have things I need to do.”
“Why wouldn’t you?” I asked. “If they’re alive, you can communicate with them.”
“And if they’re dead, I can never communicate with them again and I have missed my chance to mourn. It’s Iike that question about the cat in a box. As long as I don’t open the box, they’re both alive and dead to me, and that’s better odds than the ones I have if I read the list. If I read the list, my odds of them being alive go down considerably. As it is, hope lurks in the back of my head.”
“Just because you’re afraid doesn’t mean I am,” I said.
“No, it isn’t courage which drives you, it’s hopelessness. You’ve given up and this is your long march to your own death.”
“Why do you think I’ve given up? And what exactly did I give up on? I’m making the effort now. I’ve been walking through the cold, and snow, and miles of roads to get this far. I haven’t given up.”
“Something was keeping you in Kenton,” he said. “Something that was more important than opening the box. Some obligation you had. I’m guessing you lost a loved one recently.”
“It was my mother. She had Alzheimer’s and I had to care for her.”
“You knew she would die. You knew it was happening. You watched it happen. When she died, you had nothing else to hold on to. Nothing to keep you going. You were broke except for one small chip to bet on the roulette wheel. You decided to bet that chip, spin the wheel, and try to hit that narrow chance your family was still alive and you could somehow find them. You know what the odds are. You know it is a fruitless endeavor. You are giving up your only hope in this world on the belief you can wi
n the lottery. It’s only someone who has given up on doing anything useful which would explain doing a stupid thing like traveling to Chicago in the middle of winter by foot.”
My body shook but I couldn’t respond. Partly because what he said was true and partly because I knew it wasn’t.
The room stayed silent until I heard Ted clear his throat and speak to Andrews.
“You didn’t ask for the meeting to see if we were a danger to you or your base. You knew who we were, you know why we’re here.”
“I’m a busy man, Ted. I have a lot more important things to do than to question straggly strangers who wander onto my base. I’ve heard good things about you, and I’m trying to save your lives. I doubt anyone has confronted David like this, and I hoped it would make him consider the truth of the situation. Consider it and then turn back to Kenton. Go home, and find something else to hold onto.”
“I can’t,” I said. “I have to know. I must know. I have to find my wife. I need to find my daughter.”
“I’ll put you up for a couple of days. I understand you have some scrip from down south and we’ll exchange it for what we use. You can buy any supplies and food you need here.”
“What’s happening up north?” Ted asked.
“That’s my biggest problem. It’s all over those white boards. Colonel Miller, retired colonel anyway, has developed his own organization with his own territory and is convinced we’re going to come and try to take him over.”
“Are you?” asked Anne.
Andrews smiled. “Of course. We’re wanting to get everybody under control again and Colonel Miller knows it. It’s what we have to do. He’s prepared his men well and there have already been three violent confrontations. I’ve sent men to negotiate, but he is determined the U.S. Military leave his territory alone. Of course, we’re determined all areas be united under our command.”
“But you won’t stop us from going?” I asked.
“No, I won’t stop you from going. But it’ll be dangerous. If Miller catches you, he won’t be as accommodating as we have been. He may talk about not being under our thumb but he doesn’t mind putting his thumb down on whoever he comes across. I still suggest you go back home and leave your box unopened.”
Chapter 12
We were given nice quarters to stay in for a few days; two rooms in what had been officer housing on base before the event. The windows of both rooms looked out toward the flight line and main hangars of the base. I was amazed at how busy the airstrip was considering we were supposed to have been turned back into stone-age men. The lack of lights kept planes from taking off or landing at night, but there was a flurry of activity in the morning as three or four planes left on their missions and by the time the sun was setting, most of those planes were being put back in the hangars.
It was odd to see progress at this level. I wouldn’t have imagined flight would be re-accomplished within a year of the event, and yet here it was. It was also odd to hear some of the responses to progress. We learned in addition to weather, lack of radar, lack of radio, and lack of lights, the pilots of these little planes had to deal with gunfire as well. More than once, a plane had returned with several bullet holes which needed to be patched. Several times, planes had not returned at all.
I couldn’t imagine the thought process which would lead a man to fire on a plane during this time. Probably the same thought process that led four hundred men to charge the gates of a military base.
The next morning we were taken to a map room. The officer in charge, a Captain Ruffin, asked where we were headed and helped us plot the quickest route.
“We can go straight up Route 4 until we hit Interstate 55. That will take us right through Springfield,” Ted said as he drew a line with his finger on the map.
“Correct,” said Ruffin. “And that’s where Colonel Miller is based. You’ll want to avoid Springfield at all cost.”
“How would we have to go to avoid his area?” I asked. “I don’t want to lose two or three days heading east just to head back west.”
“That’s the problem. Colonel Miller controls everything within forty miles of Springfield, so you’re going to have to go around. Even skirting the edge is dangerous because he has fairly aggressive patrols.”
“Then we head west to the river and follow it north,” said Ted. “We angle to hit north of the Saint Louis area and keep going until we get to the quad cities.”
“It might work except for the radiation,” Ruffin said. “A couple of nuke sites had full melt downs near the quad cities, and both sides of the river are in pretty bad shape for close to a hundred miles.”
“And there were some plants in Northern Illinois,” I said. “I remember seeing stories about them on the news.”
“Near Champaign and Bloomington,” he said. “Reports indicate they suffered major melt-downs as well.”
Ted looked at the map. “We’ll have to figure out a clear path.”
“And not take too much time,” I said. “We need to get there as quickly as possible.”
“Would be a lot easier without Miller’s territory to avoid,” Ted said. “Best I can figure is we skirt around to the east of his land and slide up to highway 136 to the southwest of Bloomington. That should keep us clear of the radiation and will let us figure out a clear path, even if we have to travel a few more days.”
“Depends,” said Ruffin. “Where in Chicago are you going?”
“Oak Park,” I said. “It’s on the upper west side.”
“You’ll want to come at it from the west, then. You don’t want to dig through the entire metropolitan area from Indiana.”
“This will take longer than we planned,” said Anne. “We need more supplies.”
She was right. We’d done well shepherding our resources. With good luck taking small game, we had eaten less than a third of our food. But it looked like the trip from the base would be harder and longer than the trip to the base. Not only would we have to deal with the weather, wild animals, and hostile and fearful survivors like us, but we’d need to beware of areas with radiation and stay out of the grasp of some mad warlord.
“Does Miller let traders in?” I asked Ruffin.
“I haven’t heard of anyone heading up there and coming back. Maybe he lets in traders from other areas. But anyone from this direction, he would assume had come to spy on him.”
“He’d be right,” said Anne. “I wouldn’t trust Andrews either.”
Ruffin either agreed with her sentiment or chose to ignore it, but he didn’t disagree.
“I can’t loan you any of the maps,” he said. “But feel free to use and copy them all you want. If you need anything, I’ll be back in an hour.”
Ted pulled out the atlas he carried with him and opened it to Illinois. He marked off areas where the military suspected radiation and made notes on different locations and directions.
“He’s awfully trusting to leave us alone in a room like this,” Anne said.
“We’re being watched,” said Kenny. His eyes never left the map. “Two guards behind the mirror. Just making sure we don’t walk off with anything.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I saw them come in before us. The door to that room shut, and we haven’t heard any noise since we came in. Either they’re doing office work, which seems unlikely, or they’re watching us through the two-way mirror.”
We finished in the map room and headed toward our housing. Now we had determined our route, I felt optimistic about leaving. We decided we would spend a few more days at the base and then head out. It would give us time to rest and gain strength for the journey ahead.
We spent the bulk of the next day in the room as we gathered our strength for the trip. We went through our packs and gave Ted all of the things which hadn’t proved useful on the trail. Once he had everything we could get rid of, he headed out to the marketplaces to barter for supplies. He brought back some preserved vegetables, some beef jerky, a new jar of bouillon cu
bes, and four more pairs of socks for each of us. Socks were always useful. When your feet were dry, you were happier and healthier. He also had two bags of wadded up balls of newspaper which had been soaked in paraffin wax.
“Where’d you get those?” Kenny asked when Ted pulled them out like a golden treasure.
“There was a guy selling them. Most people were ignoring them, so I tried not to look too interested. Still paid high, though. He knew what they were worth.”
“Bags of newspaper?” I said.
“No, bags of newspaper soaked in paraffin,” Ted said. “The best and fastest way to start a fire in even the wettest conditions.”
“How much were the socks?” Anne asked.
“Not expensive,” Ted said. “When you need them, you really need them, but there were piles and piles of them at the clothing stalls.”
That didn’t surprise me. After the event in Kenton, one of the things which caught everybody off guard was how much clothing there was. Even after working in the fields, my clothing didn’t disappear, in fact it seemed to show up as we looked through old closets, drawers and stored boxes. Sure you might lose your favorite t-shirt eventually, but most people just have piles of clothes in their house. And when someone died, their clothing was spread around, so it seemed endless.
Ted had also traded some of our scrip from home for some of the base scrip. We used it that night to splurge. There was a gymnasium on the base which rented out its hot showers for 50 scrip. We luxuriated in those showers for the entire hour, and even a little longer since no one had a stop watch on us, and then headed back for another comfortable night in our quarters.
Ted asked around and found he could send a radio relay message back to Kenton. It was pretty expensive, but worth it. He sent word we had made it to the air base and we would be leaving for Chicago in a couple of days. I knew Tom, Sophia and Luke would get the word and spread it to all who were worried about us.
That evening we sat up and talked about how the base seemed vastly different from the world around it. Vehicles were common, probably due to the concentration of talented mechanics and engineers which had been part of the team that kept the fleet of planes flying before the event. We had discovered the generator which ran the underground complex for General Andrews could be powered by jet fuel, and there were thousands of gallons of jet fuel in the underground tanks. Enough to give his building power for a couple of years.
