by Deane, Cliff
“Sergeant Scott Eldridge, sir. My last active duty posting was the 75th Ranger Battalion.”
Just as Levi entered his tent, the skies opened up in sheets of rain nearing the horizontal.
Levi looked out at the deluge, knowing that it would reduce the number of foragers, as well as help to put out some of the non-gas fires. He thought, Not that it will make any difference in the long run, but it may give him another day or possibly two, to secure additional materiel. Yeah, looters seem to be fair weather undocumented shoppers.
The refugees would, for the most part, just trudge along in the rain, becoming more desensitized by the mile.
He thought, Yes, Virginia there is a Santa Claus.
*
“Sixty is a tragedy…sixty million is a statistic.”
Josef Stalin
Defiance Front Gate
Levi was up with the sun and at the gate. Sergeant Eldridge said, “Sir, please wait here until we have cleared the area. It will not do us much good if you get taken out by some fool with a gun.”
“All right Sergeant, but let’s get a move on, you and your men need to get some chow and into dry clothes.”
“Roger that, sir, just give us a few,” and with that, he led his RF out to the bodies, after spreading out his men to secure the area.
After about ten minutes Sergeant Eldridge signaled ‘all clear.' Levi was impressed and satisfied that the area was, in fact, secured.
Levi walked from the gate to the first of three bodies. He turned him over and found a middle-aged man in a filthy business suit. He still held a .38 caliber Smith & Wesson revolver in his right hand. His wallet contained $27, six credit cards, driver’s license, and pictures of a woman and two children…damn.
He returned the wallet to the man’s back pocket before going to the other two. They seemed mirror images of each other; perhaps they had been friends or coworkers before the lights went out. Now they would become a warning to those entering the minefields where the bodies would be dumped this morning.
These bodies would be the first to be placed at the edge of the minefield going in today, no funerals, no words.
*
“They Shall Not Pass”
Battle cry at Verdun, 1916
Class Tent
Defiance
Levi gave the job of teaching how to properly prepare the mines to Ranger Sergeant Eldridge.
“People, it is best if you pay close attention because we need each of you.
Okay, first we connect the wiring to the pressure switch on these two pins. Pay attention to the negative and positive terminals before inserting the blasting cap into the dynamite. Finally, we connect the battery and cover it with leaves. Any questions?”
“Sergeant, won’t the battery send a charge when it gets connected to the pressure switch?”
“The simple answer is yes, but only to the switch. Until sufficient pressure is applied, the circuit is not complete.”
Since there were no further questions, Eldridge began supervising the connections and emplacement of our new mine field. We laid one hundred that morning and placed warning signs along the road. Danger, this is a minefield. DO NOT ENTER.
*
At the road four armed guards kept the pleading refugees lined up three deep and into a plywood chute. They were gently prodded along while being asked what their occupation had been, and if they were veterans. Using this method Defiance was able to add critical personnel.
It was as clinical as possible, but in fact, it resembled a chute used to count cattle after a long drive to a railhead. At first, it depressed those working the chutes, but by noon it had become just another job. The pleading families with small children were heart-rending, though several families with needed skills were saved.
“Now wait just a minute. You have to help us; we have rights. I’ll sue you. I’m an attorney. I work for the Mayor,” were heard by so many, while others pleaded, “Please help us, we’ll do anything. Here, please, at least take my baby. We need help.”
There were the rich, celebrities, lawyers, union bosses and bureaucrats to name but a few who just refused to believe they could no longer demand preferential treatment.
Lifelong welfare recipients demanded to be taken care of. They just could not comprehend how the government teat had suddenly dried up. Without that lifeline, they had no possible way to support themselves, to life skills to offer a struggling community.
Liberal policies had created a lifeboat cradle to grave society that in but a millisecond sank beneath the tsunami of a new and terrible reality.
What this new world needed mostly were those who worked with their hands; carpenters, mechanics, ditch diggers, soldiers, and every former occupation that actually required that something be created.
Oh sure, there was a need for specific skills other than the dirty hand's jobs, but the ratios took on a new balance in year Zero.
*
By 1400 the roads had been cratered, stopping all but four wheeled drive vehicles. One-half sticks of dynamite mines were laid out on both left and right sides of the craters.
Today these walkers were just refugees. In two days they would resemble zombies, staggering along, ill and desperately hungry. The very old and very young would be the first to fall out of the line. They were left where they fell along the route to some government encampment where they would find help; on this imaginary road to salvation.
On this day, twenty-three people with needed job qualifications were cut from the crowd, fed, cleaned up, rested and put to work as new citizens of Defiance.
One such refugee stood out from the others, Dale Dannen. He was a Solar Panel Engineer who not only could build solar panel kits but knew where thousands were stored along with the inverters and wiring necessary to create lots of electricity.
***
Chapter 10
Evil this way comes
April 3rd 10:00 a.m.
Abandoned Police Station
Eastside of Raleigh, NC
“Pablo, Raleigh ees burning, and food ees becoming difficult to find. I have decided that we move east to the coast.
Put out the word that a meeting for all Rican Rogues to meet here at 4:00 this afternoon. We got to pack up and get on the road,” announced Gang leader Romeo Cruz to his lieutenant, Pablo “Gunner” Rivas.
Rivas looked dumbfounded. He had not been outside of Raleigh since he arrived from Ponce, Puerto Rico, ten years ago when he was only fourteen years old. “El Jefe, other than our weapons, what would ju have us pack up?”
“Ah Pablo, we must find things like food, pots, and pans, tents; things to make life easier for us on the road,” said a smiling gold-toothed Romeo Cruz.”
Like his friend Pablo Rivas, Cruz also had not been out of Raleigh since he had arrived, with Pablo from Ponce, ten years ago. Cruz was thirty-three and wore his jet-black hair in dreadlocks. At 5’7”, he weighed 175 lbs.
Cruz was El Jefe of the Rican Rogues, a gang steeped in drugs, adult and child prostitution, porn, gambling, and murder. Both he and Rivas were born killers.
Rivas blurted out, “Romeo, are ju crazy? How can we fight if we carry all of that stuff without trokas?”
“Pablo, Pablo, Pablo, are there not still many remaining gringos and gringas? Slaves Pablo, slaves to carry the load, do the work, and provide certain comforts. For me, ju must find two beautiful blonde teenage gringas, for those certain comforts.
I theenk we get fifty Whities at first so we can keel maybe ten of them for the slightest mistake, and we weel do it publically, with great pain. That should keep the others in line. Make chure ju also get cooks and a doctor. Comprehende, Amigo?”
Now Rivas also displayed his golden “grill” as he smiled and said, “Si Jefe, I weel see to it at once. Ju are so smart, Jefe.”
*
April 3rd 4:00 p.m.
Abandoned Police Station
Eastside of Raleigh, NC
Forty-two members of the Rican Rogue Gang made
their way into the abandoned Police Station for the meeting with their Jefe, Romeo Cruz. All were heavily tatted and wore their long sleeve shirts with only the top button fastened. Their pants were baggy, and all were heavily armed.
Romeo told them to shut up so he could tell them of his plan. When Romeo would tell someone to shut up, it was always best to oblige. The room quieted in an instant, and Romeo Cruz said, in his native Spanish, “My bros no longer can we stay here. The city is burning, and the food is becoming scarce. Disease will soon follow from all the dead bodies rotting in the street, so I have decided that we will move eastward to the coast.
Here is what each of you must do; you must find four gringo or gringa slaves to carry our belongings. We must get tents and camping supplies that our slaves will carry and do not forget to find chains to keep the slaves from wandering off. We will scrounge for food along the way. We will live off the land, and the walking will keep us in good shape so we can take what we need as we go.
The slaves will be forced to eat human meat. We will kill three or four gringos per day. If anyone refuses to eat, then they become part of the next meal.
We will pick up new slaves and recruits as we go. Perhaps the smell in the countryside will be better than here in the city.
I have given Pablo the mission of finding cooks and a Doctor in case any of us get sick or injured.
We will leave tomorrow at 1:00 p.m. Does anyone object to my plan?”
There were no objections because those who questioned Romeo’s decisions only did it once, and besides the idea sounded exciting. Getting away from the smell would also be a blessing.
What Romeo didn’t know was that they would be walking right into the refugee migration, easy pickings.
***
Chapter 11
The Migration Falters
April 3rd – 16th
America’s Roads
Levi walked over to see Mayor Ralph to share this conundrum of the refugees.
“Levi, hi, come on in. What new disaster do we have to deal with now?”
He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat across from Ralph before saying, “Ralph, I’ve been obsessing over the walkers and thought I’d run my thoughts by you to see what you think.”
“Okay, I’m listening, go ahead.”
“Thanks, old buddy, maybe if I can verbally express my thought I might stop brooding about it.
“Consider the tens of millions of Americans on the road when at the instant the lights went out, and their vehicles failed them. Millions were far from home and had no choice but to begin the trek to return to their families.
Add to this the untold millions who live in the big cities and find that no food is being delivered which means their only options are starvation, thirst, murderers, burning cities, or the road in the hope of finding somewhere, anywhere they can find food and safety for themselves and their families.
…and the criminals, what do they do when their cities burn, and there is no food and no one for them to prey upon? There is only the road to anywhere better than where they are.
By preying on the unfortunates migrating to somewhere these criminal bosses will become Warlords growing rich upon the misery of others who are either unable or unwilling to fight to survive.
So, there you have it. All across America, and most of these walking are dead are east of the Mississippi.
Almost all have destinations they will never reach, but most are just trying to find…somewhere.”
Levi looked around the desk to his new friend and said that he began thinking about where these walkers came from. New York City alone holds nearly 9,000,000 people. What would they do if there was suddenly nothing to eat?
When those from the big cities hit the road, they become locusts, devouring every resource they come across. Baltimore, Boston, Washington, Cleveland, Chicago, the list seems to be unending. Hell, in the first year 90% of the population of this country will be dead.
It was then I came to realize that the predominance of that 90% number would die in the first thirteen days because of the lack of food…and the road.”
“Why thirteen days?”
“Easy, it will take a couple of days for most to realize that the power isn’t coming back on, and another day to be out of food. That leaves the road for the next ten days, and the road leads to so very many ways to die, but mostly to starvation and toxic water, leading to disease that will spread like wildfire through the walkers.
And that doesn’t even begin to consider those in nursing homes, hospitals, those with medical devices…aw crap Ralph, again the list never ends.
The death toll in the first thirteen days along the road of America will be littered with more than 200,000,000 dead and probably more.
I just can’t wrap his head around the simple fact that there was no longer any way to distribute what food is available. If food cannot be distributed, then it doesn’t really exist.
The reality is beyond distressing, and it’s eating at me to realize that for a reset of civilization these people have to die. They have to die because the resources no longer exist to maintain the population at anything even near current levels.
I guess I mean that before the world can even begin to recover the sheer numbers of people have to be reduced to a sustainable agrarian balance able to feed itself. Then, and only then will mankind begin to revive civilization.”
Ralph spoke as Levi paused, “I think you have to realize that these mass die-offs have occurred throughout the history of man. This scenario is just the most recent such population reducing disaster in our history.
The Dark Age following the collapse of the Roman Empire lasted for nearly 1,000 years. This Age was further retarded by a pandemic disease called the Black Plague and carried by a flea…a flea!”
“Yes, and I know mankind now faces another insidious fate of our own making; overpopulation and reliance upon technology, which brought on more population. When disaster struck in the form of a near miss by a Coronal Mass Ejection or whatever it was, mankind was irretrievably locked into technologies that in less than a nano-second ceased to exist as the cornerstone supporting the population Ponzi scheme which crumbled like the temple of King Solomon.
At first, I thought we might just be able to lay low until the worst of the disease was over, but we can’t do that. There are resources out there that we have to get now, not later.
“Levi, it is what it is, and there is nothing we can do to prevent the pain that is out there.
We just have to accept that the result will be nature’s reset to manageable levels before once again climbing the ladder of civilization.”
“Ralph, I know you are right, but the enormity of it is off the charts, and until their end comes, well, I’m just gonna be miserable about it.”
“Well, well, well, now it’s my turn to say Buckle up Buttercup. You brought me out of my pity party, and now I get to do the same for you. Here are the facts; there is nothing we can do to help them, which I recall being your words. We can only try to help our little Tribe. Stop fretting about what you have no control over.
You said it yourself; those people are already dead. They just haven’t fallen, yet.
Please, my friend, don’t fall into the same rabbit hole that you pulled me back from. Defiance needs for us to be strong and, yes, defiant.
There did I do a good imitation of you?”
Levi managed a weak smile and said; “Yeah Mr. Mayor, not bad,” then Levi placed a hand on each side of his head and pretended to get his head on straight.
Ralph chuckled at his effort and said, “Good plan, and I am reminded of the words of Jesus at the Last Supper; ‘There will be poor always, pathetically struggling, look at the good things you’ve got,’ or words to that effect. Levi that is exactly what we have to do right now.
Yeah, it’s miserable out there, but here you will not be as
miserable as those who are just walking along while waiting to die.
Come on
let’s go to the Mess tent for some lunch.”
***
Chapter 12
The Doctors Monroe:
“You Put the Lime in the Coconut
Then you feel better.”
Harry Nilsson
April 5th, 1030 hrs
Monroe Clinic
Miller’s Creek, NC
Sergeant Scott Eldridge led a patrol of six men to the Monroe Free Clinic in Miller’s Creek. His objective was to convince the Doctors Monroe, both General Practitioners to relocate themselves and their clinic to Defiance.
For security Sergeant Eldridge ordered the vehicle stopped about ¼ of a mile from the clinic and left two patrol members to guard and camouflage the truck while the remainder of the team cautiously made their way forward.
To date, the immediate area around Defiance had been relatively calm, but nightly gunfire could be heard as distant farms, and suburban areas were attacked, and the fires from looters drew closer each night. Eldridge knew that this horror might just fall on them like a sledgehammer on a railroad spike.
The patrol arrived only seconds after a group of druggies had burst into the clinic. Staff Sergeant Eldridge could hear the screaming from both the attackers and Dr. Faith Monroe.
One older truck sat outside the clinic, but no guard had been posted. These were simply drug users with no idea of covering their asses.
