Plague Years (Book 3): This Thing of Darkness I Acknowledge Mine

by Rounds, Mark

  “So, if we accept that as a mechanism, where does that get us?” asked Antonopoulos.

  “It makes the results of the interrogation make some sense,” said Whipkey.

  “So did he say anything?” asked Antonopoulos.

  “Bits and pieces, sir,” said Whipkey. “He did say that eventually, he would find someone to loose his bonds and then he would be after Ms. Hoskins. Interestingly, he also is drawing strength from those around him. Close proximity of other humans helps in some way.”

  “This is what? The third time we have tried to interrogate him?” asked Antonopoulos more to himself than anyone else.

  “Fourth, sir,” said Whipkey diffidently.

  “Drug him up and put him on ice for a while,” said Antonopoulos. “Let’s bring in some people who have some more experience. Chad had that big Indian Sayla, maybe he knows something.”

  “It will be a while before he is on his feet.” said Whipkey.

  “What happened to him?” said an irritated Antonopoulos.

  “He went after Macklin to retrieve Bob Strickland,” said Whipkey. “From all reports, he was being very effective. Unfortunately, he was injured in a blue on blue incident and broke both of his legs. The doc’s say he’ll be off his feet for weeks.”

  “Just exactly what we need,” said Antonopoulos rolling his eyes. “What about the other one, Little Bear?”

  “Captain Strickland says that he is gone scouting Macklin’s likely retreat route,” said Whipkey. “He expects to hear from him in a couple of days.”

  “Tell me about the casualties,” said Antonopoulos quietly.

  “Our best estimate is that there are at least two hundred Infected that died,” said Whipkey. “We lost one of the treatment teams and six soldiers who were manning the containment perimeter. There was also a riot at Fairchild. The only casualty there was Dr. Grieb. He was interviewing the long term infected who were responding to the Slash therapy.”

  “Damn it,” said Antonopoulos. “We have squat to go on and the enemy has us reacting to their aggression. We will lose if they keep that up. It’s time for us to take the strategic initiative. Is your Stryker company ready to roll?”

  “Sir, I’ve had them out of the training cycle and had them involved in our intelligence gathering,” said Whipkey. “Give me the word and I’ll put them back on the training cycle with their vehicles and ground tactics. I’d like to give them, and honestly myself, a couple of weeks to get back in the groove. With notice, it will take maybe one week?”

  “OK, here is your notice,” said Antonopoulos smirking a little. “Be ready to roll at first light next Tuesday. Your mission is to bust a land route through to Spokane. As soon as you leave my office, I’ll put a call into General Bossell and have him meet me here. At a minimum, you will be headed out with your company augmented by an Engineer platoon to make sure the road is passible behind you, a convoy of POL and other supplies destined for the eastern half of Washington, and a recon element.

  “General Bossell and I will develop a follow-on plan to fortify choke points like Snoqualmie Pass and the Columbia River Bridge. Once you get the road open Captain, it will stay open.

  “Then we are, at the same time, going to take up former Lieutenant Hanson’s offer of an exchange of information for his girlfriend. I am afraid that I am going to need some of your assets to make that work. I seem to recall that you had a number of teams that could track cell phone transmissions?”

  “Yes sir,” said Whipkey quizzically, “but I thought you didn’t want to risk anyone chasing after her?”

  “I’m not after her,” said Antonopoulos with a wicked smile. “But someone is holding her leash. I want ’em. Maybe if we had someone who wasn’t as big a player like Nergüi, Deputy Hoskins might have better luck, and we could eventually learn how to deal with Nergüi. I think I might be able to use phone transmissions to track them”

  “I’ll coordinate with General Bossell,” said Whipkey. “I can cycle the troops through the training so this won’t slow down my mission much.”

  “One last thing,” said Antonopoulos. “You better get over to clothing sales because you are out of uniform.”

  “Wha…” said Whipkey as he quickly checked his utilities for flaws.

  “As of right now, you’re Major Whipkey,” said Antonopoulos with a wink. “You are gonna need some extra pull to get things done on this trip and you have done a damned fine job holding down two jobs in a touchy situation.”

  Chapter 11

  July 12th, Sunday, 6:17 pm PDT

  Providence Medical Research Center, Spokane, WA

  Robert Strickland was checking out the lab space that Macklin had found for him. He had to admit that it was probably the best available in these trying times. The mass spectrometer was not functional, but there were several working ventilation hoods, three first-class centrifuges, and a ton of glassware that was carefully packed and put away. He clearly had enough to get started.

  Macklin had provided four minions who Robert had sent to start rounding up some of the things he thought would be useful once he had a supply of Oregon Grape. While they were gone, Robert started to look at some of the locked storerooms that were adjacent to the lab. The first had contained reagents and solvents and was properly vented. Robert made sure to get the fans going in that room. He was headed to the second when he heard a noise from one of the cupboards. Robert quietly opened the door on the waist high cupboard and looking back, he saw the blue eyes of a young girl, not more that twelve years old.

  “Who are you?” he asked, surprised.

  “Britney,” said the scared twelve-year-old.

  “Are you alone?” asked Robert.

  “No,” said a masculine voice from behind Robert.

  Robert whirled around and confronted a man who had opened a closet behind him and was holding a chunk of doorframe as a weapon. Another cupboard opened to the right and a small adult woman came out.

  “Who? What?” stammered Robert who, for the first time in a long time was without words.

  “I worked here as a lab tech,” said the man. “My name is Tim Galt and this is my wife Kathy and our daughter, whom you have met. I was unsure of things so my family came with me to work during the last days. When the power went out, everyone took off except us and a few others. There was some food in the building and until a couple nights ago, we were here alone. We could go out at night and scavenge. Then a bunch of rough looking men with guns filled the building and have been doing something in the main lab space. We have been hiding ever since, sneaking out at night to steal food and water. Things are getting kind of scary. You aren’t going to rat us out, are you?”

  “Are you infected?” asked Robert warily.

  “Nope,” said Tim. “I was trained in testing people. We ran a little clinic here and did a lot of testing while the Police were still active. I have tested my family and friends here repeatedly and we have always come up clean.”

  “You mentioned others?” said Robert cautiously.

  “Well,” said Tim somewhat sheepishly, “there are two more families hiding here in the building. About ten people all told, four kids and six adults.”

  “Are all of them techs like you?” asked Bob who was beginning to hatch an idea.

  “Three of them are,” said Tim. “We did all kinds of medical testing and experiments. Like I said, we were getting desperate. It was only a matter of time before they found someone.”

  “Let’s not hide you anymore,” said Bob. “I need some skilled people to do the job these fools want. We can get you some food and proper shelter in exchange for some work. I also have a plan to get us out of here before they suspect we are done. Are you in?”

  July 13th, Monday, 3:07 am PDT

  South Hill neighborhood, Spokane WA

  Little Bear held to the shadows near the home that Macklin had taken over. The security was tight, but utilizing perhaps a third of the troops that he had seen here on his last visit. These troops
were also more grim and on the ball. After Spokane and the debacle at Moscow, it was real to them now.

  There were no tell taillights to show where people were in the building, most likely because everyone not on duty was asleep; the last two days had been hard on them. As he watched he noticed two guards move over to a bush in front of the house. They appeared to sit down and have a smoke, Little Bear eased up to where he could hear their conversation.

  “Geez, we can’t flake out here!” said the smaller of the two with alarm.

  “I don’t care,” said the taller one leaning back. “It’s not like there’s anyone watching.”

  “Huh?” said the smaller one.

  “Don’t you pay attention to the shit that goes on around here?” said the taller one. “Macklin still hasn’t come back from Providence Medical. Even with all the heavy hitters he took with him, coming back in the dark would be dangerous.”

  “He’s got that big one, Ngengi with him. That guy ain’t afraid of nuthin!”

  “He’s damned scary alright,” said the taller one nodding, “but I think that little guy, Strickland, is pretty damned valuable. I think they are going to stay there and guard him. This place will be a side show for a while. I’m gonna get some sleep.”

  Little Bear slid off unnoticed into the dark. Now he had to find this Providence Medical place they were talking about and get the lay of the land. If he could get in close, maybe he could get an idea of the security set up. Either way it was going to be a long night.

  July 13th, Monday, 10:11 am PDT

  Gritman Memorial Hospital. Moscow ID

  Sayla’s eyes were closed but he was not sleeping. Whenever he opened his eyes, the nurse asked him about pain. In truth, since he had unwillingly become one of Nergüi’s followers, he needed very little sleep. His legs pained him but he could already feel the bones beginning to knit. He had dealt with much worse in his life, sometimes at the hands Nergüi. He could also hear the shallow breathing of someone very close. He opened his eyes and looked at the door.

  “Come in, little one,” said Sayla quietly.

  “How did you know I was there?” asked Fiona as she stepped from behind the door. “I thought you were asleep and I was being very quiet, just like you showed me.”

  “You were quiet,” said Sayla, nodding, “but I hear better than most.”

  “Well, anyway,” said Fiona bringing a cinnamon roll from behind her back, “Dad said you were hurt, so I baked you something after I was done with chores in the kitchen. I thought it might cheer you up.”

  “It might,” said Sayla, taking the roll. In truth, it had come to be his favorite breakfast from the limited repast that was available at the dorm.

  “Dad said that you had got hurt trying to save my Uncle Bob,” said Fiona. “Thank you.”

  “I failed,” said Sayla roughly.

  “That’s not what Dad and Uncle Dave said. They said you chased the bad guys for most of a night and all the next day with no sleep, no food, and no water and with no weapons to start with. They were in awe of what you did.”

  “It didn’t help,” said Sayla.

  “Dad says it did,” said Fiona defensively. “He says that Macklin is running scared now and he’ll make mistakes. He said that you scared him. But anyway, I just wanted to say thanks. My Uncle Bob seems mean to some people but he is really nice if you can see past his hurts. He taught me to play chess when I was eight. Everyone else treated me like a baby back then, but he treated me like a person. Two Christmases ago, he gave me a chess set that he made himself. He is just really smart and some people don’t understand him.”

  “But you do,” said Sayla. It was not a question.

  “Maybe,” said Fiona. “But anyway, do you want to talk or play a game? I brought my chess board.”

  “The games were different when I was a boy,” said Sayla kindly.

  “What were they like?” asked Fiona.

  “Many were hunting games,” said Sayla with a faraway look in his eye, “or games where we would chase each other. Sometimes we would race running like a bear or a crab.”

  “That would be pretty hard for you to do now, wouldn’t it?” asked Fiona.

  “Yes,” said Sayla with a hint of a smile.

  “Did you know any quiet games?” asked Fiona.

  “Sometimes,” said Sayla, “my mother would play a game where she would offer us a sweet and have us play a game where we would see who could be quiet the longest.”

  “My mother used to do that too,” said Fiona.

  “See? You lost already,” said Sayla smiling.

  “Do you know any others?” asked Fiona, not acknowledging the joke.

  “There was one my grandmother would play with me sometimes.” said Sayla with a faraway look in his eye. “She was very old and sick and couldn’t move much. But when my mother would go out to work in the fields when I was little, she would play hands and bones with me.”

  “What is ‘hands and bones’?” asked Fiona.

  “I need two little bones,” said Sayla, “or something small that I can hide easily in my hand.”

  “Would these do?” asked Fiona who reached into her pocket and pulled out a handfull of coins.

  “Yes,” said Sayla who selected a dime and a penny. He then put his hands under the sheets, shuffled the coins, and then put two fists forward. “Which one has the penny?”

  Fiona scrutinized Sayla’s hands for a moment and then tapped his right hand. Sayla opened it and showed her the dime.

  “That’s one point for me,” said Sayla handing Fiona the coins. “Your turn. The first player to get ten points wins.”

  “What did they win?” said Fiona accepting the coins.

  “If my grandmother won,” said Sayla, “I would have to do a small chore like getting water or bringing her a blanket. If I won, she would tell me a story of when she was a girl.”

  “That sounds fun,” said Fiona thrusting out her two fists. “Especially the story part. Choose!”

  Salya tapped Fiona’s right hand. She opened it and showed the penny.

  “How did you know?” asked Fiona.

  “I have been a hunter for a very long time,” said Sayla. “You can only be a good hunter if you can think like what you are hunting.”

  They played like this for perhaps an hour. Three times, Fiona ran to get Sayla water or made sure his knife was still in the drawer, but once, Fiona won.

  “What kind of story would like you to hear?” asked Sayla.

  “Tell me about when you were a boy,” said Fiona innocently. “Did you have to go to school? Mom says school is going to start here in the fall.”

  “We didn’t have a special building or anything,” said Sayla with a hint of a smile on his face. “But I would follow my father and he would show me how to fish or when to plant corn and squash. My grandmother knew how to take the flesh from the prickly pear cactus and make it good to eat. The girls learned how to make baskets and collect plants that we could eat. Young men learned to hunt the rabbits and the deer.”

  “That sounds like more fun than Algebra,” said Fiona making a face. “But I have to go. Mom needs help with the lunch for the kids and later, she’s going to show me how to make a pie.”

  “Sounds a lot like Indian school,” said Sayla smiling.

  “Maybe so,” said Fiona who was lost in thought for a moment. “Anyway, I have to go. It was nice to hear about Indian school, I’ll come by tomorrow.”

  After Fiona left, Sayla sat quietly for a long time. The nurse peered in and, seeing that he was awake started to talk.

  “Are you feeling any pain?” asked the nurse.

  “Some,” said Sayla who had shifted back into his normal communication style.

  “Do you want anything for it?” asked the nurse.

  “No,” said Sayla.

  “Who was that young girl?” asked the nurse who was getting pretty tired of Sayla’s one-word answers. “Is she from around here? Who are her people?”

/>   “She is of my tribe,” said Sayla, a small tear working down his cheek. “She is my friend.”

  July 14th, Tuesday, 11:30 am PDT

  The Commons Building, University of Idaho, Moscow ID

  “Sir, I have a message from Little Bear,” said Corporal Taylor who was now permanently assigned to the intel detachment.

  “What does it is say?” asked Chad, taking the paper from Taylor.

  “He has seen your brother and he looks OK,” said Taylor.

  “Where is he?” asked Chad anxiously.

  “There is a medical lab in Spokane … sir,” said Taylor suddenly remember he was talking to an officer. “It’s called Providence Medical Research Center. They were a straight-up medical research lab before the Plague. But now Macklin has taken it over. Apparently, they have a lot of equipment that is in pretty good shape.”

  “What’s the security situation?” asked Chad.

  “Pretty tight, apparently,” said Taylor. “They have a couple of those big followers that were in the intel report and at least fifty of the normal mercenaries. Macklin has apparently taken up residence there.”

  “So how did Little Bear get this information out?” asked Chad.

  “That’s the goofy part, sir,” said Taylor. “I was working at my desk downstairs and I heard a horse ride up. At first, I thought it was one of the Cavalry guys, but it was a Native American on a horse. He said to give this dispatch to you. He said he’ll back in an hour to take a response to Little Bear.”

  “Get Major Tippet and Colonel Amos,” said Chad getting up from his desk. “We need to respond to this with a list of data we might need for a rescue attempt. If that rider shows up while we are in our meeting, don’t let him leave. In fact, invite him in. I think we need to get the measure of the man.”

  Chad gathered some maps that he had been compiling of the area around Spokane along with his latest estimate of Macklin’s forces strength and headed to the conference room. He was joined shortly by Tippet and Amos.