The soldiers carried assault rifles, fanning out as they moved into the tree line. One of the soldiers peered through a set of binoculars. He swept them over the area, and the soldier's gaze rested on Mike. He made a series of hand gestures to the other soldiers, pointing in Mike's direction.
He wondered if setting the display home on fire attracted their attention, having the exact opposite effect he was hoping for. Three soldiers moved through the trees toward him, their rifles trained on him. The rest of the soldiers went up the road towards the development, walking right over the dirt covered road.
Mike suddenly became very aware of the Glock strapped to his belt. He broke out in a cold sweat and stood stock still as the soldiers came towards him, not moving a muscle. He slowly raised his arms up away from his body, keeping his hands out in the open where the soldiers could see them. The last thing he wanted was for them to see him as a threat and get an itchy trigger finger. He didn't know why they were here, but he suspected it wasn't about him since the main group of soldiers had gone up the road towards the rear of the development. If he had to guess, they were here for one of his neighbors. Maybe someone had committed a crime. Martial law was not something to take lightly.
The soldiers flanked him, moving quickly and quietly through the thick underbrush. Their CBRN suits gave them an ominous look. If he hadn't seen heard their noisy Humvees on the highway, he would have never seen them coming.
"Don't move. Keep your hands where I can see them," a voice said from behind him.
Mike felt a hard point press into the middle of his back. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he realized it was the barrel of a rifle. He wondered how in the hell the soldier had caught him flatfooted.
"Put your hands on top of your head."
"OK. No problem," Mike said, obeying the instruction.
Two of the soldiers he'd spotted coming down the hill towards him stopped sixty yards away, crouched down, watching the clearing. The remaining soldier approached him and pulled his Glock out of the holster and patted him down for more weapons.
"All clear," the soldier said.
The soldier pulled his right arm behind him and zip tied his wrist to his belt loop on his pants. The man kept a firm grip on Mike's wounded arm.
"What's this all about, if I can ask?" Mike asked.
The soldier in front of him spoke into a walkie-talkie, but he had no idea what the man was saying; he spoke in acronyms and coded speech that Mike couldn't make out. Static burst from the walkie-talkie and a voice responded in more coded speech. All Mike understood was "Stand by."
Several minutes passed, and static burst from the walkie-talkie followed by a command of some sort. All of the soldiers reacted, getting to their feet.
"Do you know Bert and Robin Greene?" The soldier facing him asked.
Mike wondered what the couple had done to warrant so many soldiers coming to round them up. "They're neighbors of mine. I hadn't really ever spoken to them before last week. Why? Did they do something wrong?"
"Can you speak with Mrs. Greene and try to calm her down? She's causing a disturbance. If you can't calm her down she's going to end up in a brig."
Puzzled, Mike nodded his head. "Yeah, I guess I can try."
The soldiers marched him up the hill. Mike slipped on the loose soil, but the soldiers caught him before he fell and helped him up the hill. When they reached the top of the hill he saw the commotion. Bert had his hands zip tied behind his back and his feet trussed up, hauled away by four soldiers who were carrying him off like a trophy pig. Bert thrashed about, shouting at the soldiers.
Robin trailed behind the group, pulling at the soldiers trying to separate her from her husband.
One of the soldiers dropped Bert's feet and spun around. "If you don't stop pulling on my suit I'm going to put a bullet through you," the soldier shouted, and pushed her to the ground with the butt of his rifle.
Mike gave a questioning look at the soldiers escorting him. "Can I try to talk to her?"
"Go ahead."
He walked over to Robin where she lay on the ground, stepping in between her and the soldiers carrying her husband away. "I don't know what's going on but you have to stop this. Calm down and we'll figure this out."
"They can't take him!" Robin sobbed, uncharacteristic of her normal in charge demeanor. "They can't just take him away!"
Robin got to her feet and tried to push past Mike.
Mike grabbed her arm and spun her about. "Robin! Tell me what's going on. These guys aren't joking. They'll shoot you. You can't pull on their suits like that. They are just as afraid of getting infected with the virus as we are, and they don't know if we're infected or not. Now calm down and tell me what's going on."
"Their job?" Robin shouted. "Their job is to enslave people?"
Mike shook his head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"They're taking Bert to the power plant. Everyone else that knew how to run the power plant is dead, so they're making him go in to work! They can't do this!" Robin yelled. She lowered her voice and whispered conspiratorially, "Mike... go get your guns. You have to help us!"
"We can't do that Robin, there's too many of them. Think about this rationally. If you killed even one of those soldiers there would be a hundred more here in an hour. Fort Leonard Wood is right around the corner. They'd be back with helicopters and tanks. They would hunt you down and kill you. Think about your daughter. What would she do without you?" Mike asked.
Robin sunk to the ground, protesting between sobs.
"He'll be OK. You'll see. This will all blow over soon enough," Mike said, hoping he sounded more convincing to her than he did to himself. He wished it were true, but he knew in his heart it wasn't. Pissed at the loss of his Glock, he knew it was nothing compared to what she had lost. He had a replacement Glock in the cellar, but he could do nothing to get her husband back. Mike stood by, unsure what to say to comfort her.
Friday, June 12th
Chapter 16
Jen sat on the curb at the edge of the road, trying to ignore the nasty argument that had been going on between Rich and Eva for the last ten minutes while she waited for the others to return. They were both drunk, and Rich still nursed a pint of vodka. Aaron Ted, and Lance sat on the other side of the road, head hung and sullen. Kelly clung to Sherri, sobbing for her parents, as the older woman tried to comfort her. Jen couldn't make out what the issue was, but the little girl was inconsolable.
Jen wondered was curious what had happened, but she didn't want to agitate the girl by asking. Waiting for the others to arrive, she went through the inventory list she'd made detailing the supplies in her parent’s home. The list was sparse, and she was worried about how few supplies were left. She'd gone through a lot of food in the past few weeks, but what worried her even more was how short she was getting on hand sanitizer. Three small bottles of liquid hand sanitizer were all she had left. She turned her hands over, worried about how she would keep them clean. She had tried her hardest today to only wash them once an hour.
Mike's confrontation had gotten to her. She was annoyed at his intrusion into her personal life, she didn't even know him, yet at the same time she knew he was speaking the truth and only trying to help. The cracks in her hands did put her at risk. She had to find some way to control her problem.
"Did you see what happened?" Ted asked her excitedly.
"No. What happened?" Jen asked. "Is that why Kelly is upset?"
"I saw a bunch of Army guys bust in to Robin's home and take Bert away. Crazy."
"What? Why?"
"No idea, but they scared the crap out of her kid. Messed up man," Ted said. "I wonder what they wanted Bert--"
"Hold on, here comes Robin," Jen said. "Let's wait and find out what happened before we jump to conclusions."
Robin and Mike crested the hill. Robin was visibly shaken. Kelly ran to her mother and Robin picked her up, hugging her tight. She dried her eyes and collected herself.
&nbs
p; "Robin? What happened? Are you OK?" Jen asked.
"National Guard soldiers came and took Bert taken away. They had orders to bring him in to work at the power plant. He's the only one left that knows how the plant operates. I--"
"What? They can't do that!" Ted blurted out.
"Actually they can," Mike said. "In times of crisis, the government can compel people to go back to work if their jobs are critical enough. Presidents have issued orders ending union strikes in the past, this is no different really. It's a national emergency."
"But--" Ted started.
"Listen. I don't think it's right either. I don't want to talk about it. There's nothing we can do about it right now anyway," Robin said. "We need to focus on what we can control right now. Has everyone taken an inventory?"
Robin called on each member of the group to read out their list, and she marked the items down on a notepad. After several minutes of flipped through the pages, she stood up and addressed the group again. "I tallied up our supplies and things could be a lot better, honestly. We're running out of--"
"Shut up! I swear to--" Rich shouted.
"You aren't going to do anything," Eva said, rolling her eyes.
"Can you two focus on what we're doing here?" Robin asked.
Staring sullenly at the ground, Rich glared at Eva and continued to drink, muttering to himself.
"We have enough food for three weeks. We still have running water. What I'm worried about is our supplies of disinfectants. This is a big deal. If we have to go out of the neighborhood for something, we're going to need to a lot of disinfectants to decontaminate ourselves, any clean supplies we bring back. Our food won't last forever. At some point we'll have to take the risk and leave the neighborhood, but we should put that off for as long as possible," Robin said.
"The best place to get disinfectants is also the most likely place to encounter sick people; grocery stores, mini marts, and pharmacies. It's a catch twenty-two, we want the supplies to protect ourselves from exposure to others, but to get the supplies we have to go into places other people might be."
"Can't we just stay here?" Jen asked.
"We can stay here for three weeks. That is the limit of our food supply. After that, we'll be forced to find another food source. We have to find another source of disinfectant. Bleach, preferably"
"What about chlorine?" Lance asked. "Would that--"
"Chlorine is for pools, you idiot!" Rich shouted
"Sodium hypochlorite. It's the same thing asshole. Pool chlorine is just more concentrated," Lance said.
Robin ignored Rich and turned to Jen. "Well? Would it work?"
Jen shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe. If household bleach works, pool chlorine should be just as effective. Let me check the C.D.C. website. Bleach doesn't work on all types of pathogens, so we'd better be sure before we try it."
Jen pulled up a web browser on her phone. She was about to type in the website address but noticed the headline on her home page.
Video surfaces. U.S. Military executes Shanxi victims to halt spread of virus!
"Oh no," Jen said. "This can't be true."
"What? What is it?" Robin asked.
Jen clicked the link and the video stream began to play.
A young woman appeared on screen. She had dark hair, and her mascara was streaked as if she'd been crying. Her face was bright red. Sweat dripped from her brow. She coughed and the video shook and went dark. It was clear that she was using a cell phone to record herself. The young woman was crouched down inside of a small bedroom, peering out of her bedroom window on the second story of a home.
"I have to tell the world. We're sick. They shot him. Oh my God they shot him," she cried. Peering above the windowsill, the video feed shook again as she fought to suppress her cough. She moved the cell phone above the sill, and then the video when pure white for a moment as the cell phone compensated for the bright daylight.
After the camera corrected itself, three soldiers in environmental suits came out of a row home across the street from hers, assault weapons at the ready. They closed the door and sprayed a strange looking symbol on the front of the house. Moving down to the next row home, the soldiers banged on the front door. There was no answer, and then one of them kicked the door down.
A woman screamed, a rifle fired, and then there was silence.
The soldiers exited the building and spray painted a symbol on the door. A moment later, more soldiers came down the street, carrying cans of gasoline. They poured the gas around the outside of the row homes and lit the structure on fire.
The perspective changed and the filmmaker was visible again, her eyes wide with panic. "Everybody has to see this. They can't do this. It isn't right."
The video clip ended suddenly.
Jen was stunned.
"Jen! What is it?" Robin asked.
"It's terrible. There is a video on the news showing--"
Eva screamed. Rich stood in front of her, grabbing a handful of her hair, pulling her roughly to her feet by the hair.
"I'm sick and tired of your mouth! Nothing I do is ever good enough for you. I may have slept with Claire, but at least she was a grown woman. How old is the pool boy? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? You're fifteen years older than him!" Rich roared.
Eva scowled, fighting to get him to release his grip on her hair. She freed herself, and gave a condescending laugh. "He may be young, but he's more of a man than you'll ever be. He fulfills me in ways you never could."
Rich roared, grabbed Eva by the shoulders and pushed her over. He raised his fists up and brought them down, mercilessly punching her as she lay on the ground.
Screams and shouts of protest erupted from the group.
Lance got to his feet and bolted to Eva's aid. Tackling Rich from behind, he pulled Rich off of her and the two men rolled around on the concrete road, fighting for dominance. Rich was on top for a moment, and put his hands around Lance's throat, attempting to choke him. Lance bucked him off and sprung to his feet. As Rich tried to get up, Lance caught him in the jaw with a powerful haymaker. The punch sent Rich reeling.
Lance took advantage of his opponent's pause and followed Rich as he staggered backward. Lance threw punch after punch, and blood flew from Rich's mouth as he was driven back. Rich tripped over the curb at the edge of the street and fell to the ground. Lance kneeled above his body, beating him just as mercilessly as Rich had beaten his wife. Within seconds Rich's body went slack.
"That's enough! Get off of him," Mike yelled. Mike tried to pull Lance off with a one armed grab, but Lance threw Mike's arm off, knocking him in the cast. Mike cried out in pain and yelled, "Ted, grab him!"
Ted lumbered up behind Lance and hooked his arms underneath Lance's armpits, pulling him off. Lance continued to throw punches at Rich, the swings hitting nothing but air, as if he'd gone berserk.
Lance finally seemed to come out of his rage, and went to Eva's side, helping her to her feet.
"Don't touch me," Eva shouted.
Jen realized her mouth had been hanging open, stunned by the sudden violence. Lance stormed off from the fight, passing by her. A shiver ran through her as he came towards her, his fists still dripping with Rich's blood. Images from the medical school labs flashed before her eyes. Blood samples with pathogens swimming freely, multiplying by the thousands. Jen shrank away from Lance, afraid one of the blood droplets would flick off of his hands in her direction.
Robin called for her to come look at Rich's wounds. Jen took one look at the man on the ground, his face a swollen mess of cuts, his eyes swollen. Unconscious and drunk, bloody drool leaked from his mouth. Jen stuffed her hands in her armpits, hugging herself, and backed away. It was all she could do not to turn and run.
Friday, June 12th
Chapter 17
Mike cradled his left arm, gritting his teeth against the pain in his wrist. As he tried to grab Lance, the younger man had thrown off his arm, the blow impacting his cast. His wrist throbbed. His mind began to fog up as
he couldn't think clearly with the insistent pain. Blood covered the front of his shirt, splattered onto him from Lance's bloodied hands. Although he was in serious pain, he could hardly blame Lance for his injury. Mike knew better than to break up a mad dog fight. You might get bit by accident. Lance had his head in the right place, running to Eva's defense.
Rich had stood no chance against Lance. He was younger, in shape, and had faster reflexes. Mike was surprised that the man hadn't been beaten to death.
Robin knelt down next to Rich, who was still out cold. Lance had done quite a number on him. Rich's face was a swollen and bloody mess. His right eye was swollen shut and blood drooled out of the corner of his mouth. Robin held his nose pinched tightly shut with a compress.
"Is he going to be alright?" Mike asked.
"He's breathing," Robin said. "He's going to have one hell of a headache when he wakes up. I would say we should get our medical student to look at him, but I think that isn't going to be an option right now."
Mike glanced at Jen, who was staring wide-eyed at Lance's bloody hands as the young man stormed off. A doctor, even a third-year med student would be an invaluable resource, but she had to work through her inner demons or get some medication before she would be of any use. Right now she was more of a liability than anything in her current condition.
Eva's heels clicked loudly on the concrete road as she approached. She drew her foot back and kicked Rich in the ribs before Mike could react. "Piece of shit!"
Robin held her arm out to protect Rich against more of Eva's blows. "All right Eva. He had that coming, but I think he's had enough." Robin turned to Mike. "Help me get him inside their house. We need to wash these wounds and put him to bed."
"No way. He is not coming in my house," Eva said. "Let him sleep outside like the dog he is."
"I know what he did to you was terrible. Reprehensible. Outright wrong, but we can't just leave him outside. Do you have a spare bedroom we can put him in?" Robin asked.
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