by W. J. Lundy
Sean looked at him. “You know that’s not what they were doing.”
“There were rumors.”
Brooks laughed. “Had to have been more than that. They were murdering families and kidnapping people. Nobody wondered where all the single ladies and unaccompanied children were coming from?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Going to be a long drive; we gotta talk about something.”
Spencer pressed his back into the seat and clenched his fists then looked up at the ceiling. “The Civilian Authority runs things in the New Republic. It covers most of Pennsylvania, Ohio, and parts of Upstate New York. It should be part of Michigan and Indiana too but…”
“But what?” Sean asked.
“Well, Michigan has their wall, and being surrounded by the Great Lakes, they weren’t as quick to leave what they had built and join the Republic. They are still part of the Alliance though, or they are if one still exists.”
Sean scratched at his beard. “And Indiana?”
“No,” Spencer said. “Indiana ceased to exist almost a year ago, along with most of Ohio. It was just too much territory to protect, and we don’t have a wall like Michigan. Every one of those communities had to be individually fenced and defended.”
Joey turned back in his seat. “That’s how we ran in Virginia; it works.”
Nodding his head, Spencer looked away from the man and stared out the window. “Maybe… but it didn’t work for us. Eventually, the Indiana and Ohio leadership agreed to shutter their outposts and consolidate in the east.”
“And the people just moved?” Sean said.
Spencer shrugged. “With some convincing.”
“And that’s where Carson came into play.”
“I’m afraid so. We were all busy in the east, trying to keep the New York hordes from overrunning us. The military doesn’t have a voice and is really nothing more than a backdrop. After the fall, shit just went sideways; everyone wanted control. What was left of the military was focused on setting up and holding perimeters, trying to defend the FEMA camps and rescue civilians. By the time things shook out, it was chaos. If you think Afghanistan was confusing with a tribal system, the Midwest was worse.”
“Who was the Civilian Authority?” Sean asked.
“Every mayor with a hometown militia thought they were in charge. Most of the federal government that had escaped D.C. ended up around Philadelphia, where they tried to start a new congress by proxy. It was how they drafted the Midwest Alliance. But there was still a lot of infighting. I’m telling you, everyone wanted a piece. Everyone thought they knew what was best for the survivors. Hell, as far as that goes, not much has changed.”
“And the military? Who’s in command?”
Spencer shook his head. “Just as bad. There are a lot of National Guard units that came in fully intact. Others like me, we found our way there when our units were overrun. I was part of Tenth Mountain, sent up to secure Boston.” Spencer looked down and shook his head. “There were only a few dozen of us that made it out. I know of a couple no-name generals, loads of staff officers. Nothing ever really got organized beyond a battalion here and there, and we still all reported up to the Civilian Authority.”
Brooks looked up again. “So it’s all regionalized, nobody talks higher than battalions?”
Spencer nodded. “That’s correct. No brigades, no divisions. Every battalion—which are hardly company strength—reports to a regional leader. It’s like the Civil War Union. And local commanders are just as bad. A mayor had a food distribution center in his district. He would give access to it, and in exchange, one of his local militia bosses would get promoted to colonel. A state senator had some of the most prime farming land. His nephew gets a commission and a battalion posted in his hometown. Like I said, it all became tribal, with us out on the perimeter holding the line.”
“And who were you with?” Sean asked.
“That’s a bit trickier,” Spencer said. “Some of us officers off active duty got special assignments. I’m in a recon unit. Rather than tasked with defending some isolated city or securing perimeters, we go out and recon.”
Sean looked at him and nodded. “And what were you reconnoitering when we bumped into you?”
Spencer sighed. “We’ve been over this. We were told by fleeing units that Texas was on the move and looking to take out territories.”
“And what fleeing units were these?”
“Raiders.”
“Carson’s raiders,” Sean said.
“The same ones.”
Sean grinned. “Carson’s raiders—who had just had their asses handed to them after attacking our home, you mean.”
“Look,” Spencer said. “We aren’t enemies here; I can see that now. All along, I thought it was messed up for us to be picking fights with the west while we were losing ground to the infected, but what the hell am I supposed to do about it?” The man shook his head in frustration. “I’m not in charge, and those men with me are just kids. I spend most of my days just trying to keep them alive. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“Hey,” Sean said. “I believe you. None that matters anyhow if we don’t live to report these hordes.”
Brooks pulled the vehicle to the shoulder and cut the engine.
“You see something?” Sean asked.
“No… I gotta take a shit.”
Chapter 30
Toledo City Limits, The Dead Lands
Brad followed Luke and Gyles down a long corridor. Chelsea remained close beside him. They’d been allowed to keep their weapons but were forced to unload and clear them once they entered the building’s interior. A trio of soldiers led the way, and another trio tailed behind them. Able walked them through a barricaded lobby. The interior of the room was scorched black from fire damage, while holes and shrapnel marks scarred the walls and floor. Beyond it was a long hallway where Able took a right and led them into a conference room.
Maps hung on the walls, and stacked papers covered every available tabletop. Able moved directly to the back and pulled down a white sheet that revealed a tactical overlay of the region. It showed the powerplant on the lakeshore and several bold-lined roads going west and south with route names over the tops of them. On the map, Brad could see squares with the names of battalions over them and stars showing the locations of communities. As the man had said, nearly every square was situated in the East, near New York, with one to the south and a few scattered among the communities.
Able pointed at the map and looked at Luke. “Now, show me where you spotted these hordes.”
Luke moved closer and looked at the area of Toledo and traced the highway back. “They were here when we broke contact.” He looked down and found a marker then pointed it to the map, looking for permission. Able nodded, and Luke traced a finger along a dark-blue line labeled The Wall. Then he drew a series of hash marks in it. “The wall has been breached in these spots.”
“The infected broke through your wall? I was told it was twenty feet high and poured concrete,” Able said.
Luke looked at the man hard. “What do you think? You ever seen an infected use a shaped charge.”
Able shook his head. “Carson.”
Nodding, Luke continued. He drew more hash marks around Detroit, close to Michigan City, and finally drew a star where Brad knew their camp was located. “The Detroit containment wall is gone, and another hole is near Chicago. I’ve got people at a camp here, and they already reported being surrounded by heavy populations.”
“What is Michigan doing with their communities?” Able asked, his voice going somber with the realization that the raiders had blown the containment.
Luke pointed at the map. “They’ll head north. If all else fails, they’ll cross the bridge into the UP and blow the bridge. Last word we had, the Upper Peninsula is clear of infected.”
“Clear?” Brad asked.
Luke stopped and looked at him. “Yes, clear.”
Brad sucked in hi
s lower lip and looked at Chelsea, who squeezed his hand, knowing his home was on the Superior Lakeshore. There was still a chance for his family.
Luke finished speaking and turned to Able. “There is no fighting this; we need to talk evacuation.”
“Evacuation means shutting down the reactor,” Able said.
“We shut it down or the infected do. I had an up-close look at your defenses. They’re impressive, but even you know they won’t hold against that.”
Able paced across the room and dropped into a chair behind a long, steel desk. He looked down at a corded phone and lifted it from the cradle. He didn’t dial, but after a pause he shifted his grip on the phone and said, “This is Master Sergeant Able; any word from Straight Six?” He paused and flipped open a leader’s book on the corner of his desk. “And when was their last contact?” He sat flipping through pages in the book before stopping. Then he folded the page over and set it aside. “Okay, I need you to call and get Philly on the line for me.”
Able held up the book and showed it to the strangers in the room. “These are my orders for this place. It says I’ll do whatever I can to keep the lights on.”
Luke shook his head then moved to a table and shoved papers away, making himself a seat. “If you stay, you’ll all die and the reactor will still go dark.”
The phone rang, and Able held up a finger and answered it. “This is Master Sergeant Able, I need Secretary Gimble. Yes, I’ll hold.”
“Gimble?” Chelsea said. “Wasn’t he the Treasury secretary?”
Able dipped his chin. “Was. Now he’s the Chair of the Civilian Authority in Philadelphia.”
“What is that, like a President?” she asked.
“No, lot lower than that, but he has the know on everything in the NR. He runs the agen—” Able put up his finger again.
“Mister Secretary, this is Able from down in Toledo.” Able turned his chair to look at the map, still holding the leader’s book in his left hand. “Yeah, we’re okay, but I have a problem here. We’ve lost contact with the battalion to the south, and I have scouts showing large numbers of infected on the freeway, moving east.” Able shook his head. “No, sir, these are city-strength numbers. Some say millions.”
Able placed the book on the desk and clenched his fist. “No, of course I don’t have air assets to confirm the size… No, they are not at the reactor site… Yes, I understand there are no available reinforcements…” Able pulled the phone from his ear then snapped it back. “Yes, sir… We can give it twenty-four hours to observe. Please contact me if the situation changes.” Able dropped the receiver, removed his soft cover, and scratched the top of his head.
The phone rang again. “Well, that didn’t take long,” Able said. He lifted the receiver to his ear. “I said—wait… who is at the gate?” Able looked at Luke then at Brad. “Get their asses in here.”
Brad and Chelsea sat in the corner of the room, sipping from paper cups when the conference room door opened and a tall, blue-eyed, blonde-haired officer with captain’s brass and a unit patch Brad didn’t recognize entered the room. Behind him were two younger soldiers wearing the same patch, the last of the two closing the door once he’d entered.
The captain stopped when Able crossed the room and met him halfway. “It’s good to see you, Captain. Where is the rest of your battalion? We’d just about given up hope on you all.” Able smiled with half his face and shot an awkward glance toward Luke.
“They’re gone,” Spencer said.
“What do you mean ‘gone’?” Able asked, his back going rigid. Brad could see that Luke and Gyles had sat up in their seats. The captain moved away from Able and approached a tray with pots of coffee on it. He lifted and rattled a pot before filling a cup. He looked down at the black liquid.
“Battalion was lost last night—overrun by infected. I was at Three Corners less than fifty miles north with my team. We were hit also. The battalion is gone, Three Corners is gone, and we’ve got a hostile mass moving this way from the south.”
“Wiped out by infected?” Able turned to Luke then looked at the map. He moved closer to it and took the marker from the table. “You came from Three Corners?”
Spencer sipped the coffee and nodded.
“And the Straight Six was at the old railyard?”
“They were.”
“You saw them? You can confirm the battalion is lost?”
Spencer reached to his hip and tossed the handheld radio onto the table. “I listened to them die,” he said through clenched teeth. “If we don’t want to join them, we need to get the hell out of here. You need to call command and ask for reinforcements, demand transportation.”
“They won’t send anyone; they don’t have anyone to send,” Able protested. He moved back to the desk and picked up the phone. This time he dialed a direct number. He held the phone to his ear and waited for an answer. “This is Master Sergeant Able at the Toledo Reactor. I am calling an evacuation of the facility. I’m going to order the reactor core be shut down.” He laughed. “You heard correct.” He laughed again. “So you’ll send a team to arrest me, but not to reinforce the facility? But you don’t have men for reinforcements? Well, I suggest you all get your affairs in order because I’m turning the lights off and bugging out.” He slammed the phone into the cradle then looked at Spencer.
“Better hope you’re right.”
“I’d rather be wrong; if I’m right, we’re all dead.”
Able grimaced and looked at Luke. “I know you boys came here hoping to get help for back home. I can’t offer that to you, but I’d appreciate your help here if you could spare it. I’ll need every shooter I can to get these civilians out.”
Luke scanned the room and stopped at Brad. “I’ve got commitments at home.”
Brad looked at Chelsea, who reached out and took his hand. He turned back to Able. “Get us some proper chow, and we’ll fling bullets for you.”
Able pointed to a soldier who’d been standing by the door. “Escort these folks to the mess hall then get them set up with security.” He turned back to Luke and the others. “Get some chow and get outfitted; I’ll come find you. If you decide to leave, I won’t hold it against you.”
Things were moving fast now. Moments after they’d left the conference room, lights on the wall began to flash red, and soon after, a dull alarm pulsed. The soldier escorting them down the corridor pointed to a speaker. “It’s the core alarm. They’re shutting down the reactor. I’ve heard it a hundred times in drills, but I kept hoping to hear it for real.”
“Hoping?” Brad asked.
“Hell, yeah, shutting this place down means we can go home.” The man stopped and turned around. “I was kind of hoping we would go home on our own though and not be chased.” He pointed to a door. “Mess hall is in there. It’s self-serve and the food sucks.”
Luke pushed past them to get inside. As the door opened, Brad caught sight of three uniformed men talking to a pair of civilians in white shirts. Unlike the men on the gate, their uniforms were soiled and ripped. Brad moved closer, and one of the men turned back to see who had entered.
“Son of a bitch,” Brooks shouted. He bounded across the room and lifted Brad into a tight bear hug, only dropping him so that he could apply the same torture to Chelsea. He stepped back and stared at them, shaking his head as Sean and Joey moved in. “I thought you’d be up in Michigan raising babies by now,” Brooks said, Chelsea throwing a punch at him that he barely dodged.
Brad grinned and then frowned. “It wasn’t good there. What are you guys doing here? It’s not safe.”
Sean smiled and shrugged as one of the civilians stepped toward them and said, “What do you mean it’s not safe?”
Brad looked at the man, wondering if it was his place to say anything. He pointed at one of the flashing red lights. “We’re about to be overrun by the infected. They are ordering the place to be evacuated and the reactor core shut down.”
The man gulped and took a step back. “Are
you sure about this? They’re really shutting down the reactor? It’s not another drill?”
Brad shook his head.
The man looked at the other civilian next to him “Then they’ll trigger the NERT.”
The second man said, “We’ll be okay.”
“Da fuck is a NERT?” Brooks asked.
“Nuclear Emergency Response Team,” the man said, his feet shuffling, already eager to leave the room.
“I heard them say nobody is coming; your friends in the north said no. And by bad counts, they are looking at a million visitors on the way here.”
The first man pulled at the second civilian’s shoulder. He took a step then looked back. “NERT is bigger than that. It goes out to anyone listening. Uses the satellites—well, the ones left, anyway. If a reactor is about to go down, there are people that will do whatever they can to keep it from melting down.” The man turned and stepped to the door before looking back a last time. “If anyone listening can help, they will.” The man left the room with the other close behind him. The door shut and suddenly the strangers were the only ones left in the cafeteria.
“It’s bullshit, right?” Brooks said.
Sean looked away and moved back to the deli counter. There were stacks of thawed cold cuts and stale bread. He smacked them together into a sandwich and looked back to the group. Brad moved next to him and loaded a plate of his own. “I’m sure a thing once existed called NERT, but who is out there now that would come to the aid of a nuclear reactor? Anyone that knows about this stuff is dead.”
“Not necessarily,” Sean said, finding a seat and sitting down heavily. He slid the tray close to him and took a huge bite then gulped down a glass of water. “There could still be bunkers of people out there, and Captain Spencer said there were other nuke sites. Maybe someone is listening.”
