Evacuation - 02

by Phillip Tomasso

  “What do you think is going on?” It was Dave. He’d raised his hand, but didn’t wait to be called on. I wanted to tell him this wasn’t school. We weren’t a part of any military branch, and the time for raising our hands before speaking had passed days ago, but I didn’t. Raising a hand seemed like the kind of thing that made Dave more comfortable, so let him.

  “As soon as we know more, we’ll share that information,” Keel said. It was a snap-answer. Curt. Perhaps meant to dissuade questions.

  “That wasn’t what he asked. He wanted to know, we all want to know, what you think is going on,” I said.

  “Sir,” Keel said.

  “Chase,” I said. “Chase McKinney.”

  “Mr. McKinney, I wasn’t avoiding the question. Truth is that I don’t have an answer. I have no clue what’s going on. I’m not going to guess. Guessing doesn’t get us anywhere. It doesn’t help the situation one bit. What will help is actual intel. The longer we stand here talking about it, the longer it takes the soldiers to go and bring back actual, helpful and factual information.”

  “Captain,” I said. “If the internment camp has been breached, the soldiers could be walking into a mess.”

  “It’s what they’re trained for, Mr. McKinney. Now, please, can we let them do their jobs?”

  “Sir,” Spencer said. “Do you know anything about the layout? That would help. I mean, anything you do have, we’d appreciate it.”

  Keel removed his captain’s hat. Using both hands, he held it in front of his chest. “What I know is that the compound is surrounded by chain-link fence. Coiled barbed wire ran along the top. There is supposed to be watchtowers in each corner.”

  A prison. It’s what it sounded like. Once inside, there was no getting out, unless allowed out. How long ago was it that this particular facility had been constructed? Why keep it all this time? Who was it the government worried they might have to incarcerate?

  “Inside the fence?” Spencer said.

  “Inside, what I’ve been told, there are roughly thirty houses. Each about twenty-by-one-hundred. Four —what they called them— apartments in each.”

  “That’s a hundred and twenty homes we have to clear?” Spade said.

  “Way I understand it, there are no walls between apartments. Imaginary lines are what have been explained. Each apartment is twenty-by-twenty-five feet. Tight living quarters, but it’s a camp, not meant to be luxurious, not by any means. There are also three separate mess halls. Buildings where people could congregate to eat, or hold meetings. There are also four military barracks, and a central stage area. The military barracks are at the four corners of the compound. The stage and mess halls are in the center. There is a mobile army surgical hospital. I believe it is also centrally located.”

  “How many people are supposed to be here already?” Spade said.

  “Roughly seventy. Between military, medical and civilian personnel.”

  Vitale stepped forward. “I want three volunteers to explore the compound.”

  Dave, along with six soldiers, raised their hand.

  “Palmeri, Barron, Saylor, you three will maintain radio contact the entire time. Do not engage any hostiles if it can be avoided. Scope out the perimeter first. If you need to enter, enter. Gather as much information as you can, and then get back here. Is that understood?”

  In unison, “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “I’d like to go as well, sir,” Dave said. He sounded all military. Deep voice. Showed courage.

  Chatterton stared at me. First time I couldn’t figure out what thoughts spun around inside his skull. Either he wanted me to rein in my guy, or he thought Dave’s volunteering was commendable. Couldn’t tell. Not for sure. It was one or the other, that much I was certain.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Vitale said.

  “I don’t want you to go.” Sues might have thought she whispered, but she hadn’t. The one arm at his side had both her hands wrapped around the wrist.

  “I think I should,” Dave said.

  “And I appreciate your bravery, but our soldiers are going to handle this.”

  “We want our guns back,” Dave said.

  “They were never your guns,” Vitale said.

  Dave opened his mouth, but this time, I grabbed his arm. “Not now,” I said. No sense getting in a pissing match. Military wasn’t just going to hand over weapons. There had to be more on the vessel. More than just what we’d seen, with the soldiers and Coast Guard crew carried. Had to be, because if there wasn’t, we might be in some serious, serious trouble.

  The three soldiers got off the boat, disappearing into the foggy mist. We gathered around Vitale’s radio. The remaining three soldiers seemed ready to spring into action. Any kind of action. They seemed upset that they hadn’t been picked to explore.

  That was a soldier.

  Even before the first transmission, we heard it. Not from the radio, but an echo in the distance. The gunfire was one thing. I had no problem with that. None. Unrealistic at this point in time not to expect it. Didn’t need to send out a recon team to realize the camp was fucked up.

  It was an agonizing shrill. Someone screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

  Chapter Ten

  The radio crackled.

  “Sergeant, Barron’s down. He’s down!”

  “Where are you, Palmeri?” Vitale held the radio in a fist. He backed away from us. No way was he taking this call in private. Safe to say we shared a vested interest.

  Spade, Marf and Spencer checked the weapons. They mumbled, so I couldn’t make out what each said to the other. It was like a different language.

  I smelled smoke, even though I didn’t see any. Tough to differentiate anything from the thick fog and the darkness. I kept a hand on each child. Allison was close to my back, her hand on my shoulder. “We need weapons, Sergeant.”

  “No one else is leaving the boat,” Captain Keel said. “We’re going to shove off. Get away from the dock.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Vitale said.

  “Didn’t say we were, just not staying in this slip. We’re going to float out some. Safe distance. Drop anchor. We’re safe on the boat,” the captain said.

  “You’re staying,” Vitale said. “You’re staying right here. My soldiers are out there. We’re not leaving them.”

  “This is my ship. I’m captain. Me. I have my crew to th—”

  “Don’t even say it.” Vitale invaded personal space. Keel didn’t back down, didn’t step away. “My soldiers are out there and we’re going after them. When we return, this ship is right here. Where it was when we left it. Do you understand? Am I clear?”

  “Sergeant, if you get off my ship, then that is your prerogative. I can assure you we will not still be tied up. We will not abandon you. It is not safe staying right here. There are more lives at stake than the three soldiers. We have eight civilians to think of. We cannot forget about them,” he said.

  The way he said it. We cannot forget about them. I didn’t like it. They were privy to something. Not sure what, but it was there in the way he said it.

  The breakdown consisted of a struggle. It was over power and fear. Loyalty and commitment. And possibly mission. Keel sounded like a chickenshit to me. Initially.

  I couldn’t argue with the logic, though. I wanted my kids safe. I wasn’t worried about me. I wanted my family safe.

  “I’m going with you,” I said. Sergeant Vitale stared at me.

  “Daddy, no!” Cash kept arms wrapped around my leg.

  “I have to,” I said. “Your sister is going to protect you. She can do that. I know she can.”

  She didn’t smile at me. I knew she appreciated the words, the trust. The boat was going to leave the dock. It would be out on the water. Away from any possible zombie attack. They’d be safe. Charlene wouldn’t have to do much more than hold her brother’s hand. She could do that. No doubt.

  “You’re not going,” Allison said.

  “I’m going with y
ou,” Dave said.

  “He’s not going, Dave,” she said. “So you’re not going with him. Neither of you is going anywhere.”

  “We have more weapons,” Vitale said. “Spade, arm the men. Leave some rifles and handguns for the Coast Guard.”

  “We have our own,” Keel said. “And we are not going to arm the civilians, Sergeant. They’ve not been trained. Could be more dangerous giving these women guns…”

  “Excuse me?” Sues had fists planted on hips. “That was uncalled for. Out of line. You might be the captain of this ship, but you just made it known that you are a sexist pig. A pig!”

  Dave wrapped an arm around her and whispered into her ear.

  “Did you hear what he said,” she said. She shook a fist at Keel.

  Yeah. I liked this woman. She clearly was family. Dave had himself a keeper in my eyes.

  Spade returned. He dragged a chest, popped the lock and lifted the lid.

  “I’ll need one,” Charlene said.

  Spade looked at me and I nodded. “She’s tough.”

  “You know how to use this?” He held out a handgun. Without waiting for an answer, he explained in four steps how to use it. “You turn the safety off like this. Hold the gun out like so. Close one eye and aim. You line this little tab up with what you want to hit. You pull the trigger here. It’s that easy.”

  Cash looked up at me. “Do I get one?”

  “Your sister will protect you,” I said, again.

  Allison, Sues and Crystal took rifles.

  “Here’s how you load them,” he said. First, he showed the ladies, giving them extra ammunition and then he showed Charlene. He gave her a handful of clips.

  Chatterton stood quiet. He hadn’t volunteered. He hadn’t opted out.

  “I do not want these people going with you,” Keel said to Vitale. “Do you hear me, Sergeant? I will file a formal complaint…”

  “With whom, Travis? Huh? Who the fuck you going to file a complaint with? Other than you, the people on this boat, and me, who the fuck you been in contact with? I’d like to know. I really would. Because, my satellite phone hasn’t heard shit from anyone. No one. You going to tell my Commander in Chief? Because even if that little fuck is holed up in some fallout bunker, I don’t think he’s going to give two shits if I handed out some fucking handguns. Is he? You think he’s going to care? Answer me! I’m not talking just to fucking talk. Fucking answer me!”

  Spade, who had been kneeling by the chest, rose to his feet and in one fluid motion was in front of and moving his sergeant away from conflict. “Sarge,” he said.

  Vitale shrugged off the soldier’s hands. He spun. We locked eyes. “You shoot before?”

  “Yes,” I said. This was not about being a hero. It’s what was right. The right thing to do. I didn’t want to go. I needed to. Had to.

  “And you?” he said.

  Dave nodded.

  “What about you?” Vitale stared at Chatterton. “I haven’t heard you fucking go peep.”

  “I’m going with you, sir.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear. You shoot?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “They all set, Spade?” Vitale said.

  Spade handed the three of us more weapons. Rifles, side arms, extra clips and a big knife, which I clipped the sheath of to my belt.

  “You be safe,” Charlene said, hugging me.

  “I will. You take care of them. Allison, too. But you listen to her. You got me? You’re not a kid anymore.”

  “I know that. We’ll be okay.”

  “I know that,” I said. I kissed her. Been a long time since she’d let me. Always gave me the top of her head or a cheek. I’ll not forget when she was younger. Used to carry her everywhere. People thought something must be wrong with her legs. We were inseparable. At a Fourth of July picnic one year, my uncle took photographs. Told us to smile. Said he didn’t have any of us together. Sarcasm dripped from his words. Times changed. As she got older, we remained close, but not as close.

  It was bound to happen. Might have been gradual, but noticeable. I felt it. Didn’t mean she loved me less. Meant she needed me less. That’s what hurt.

  “Daddy,” Cash said, reaching for me.

  Allison took his hand. She knew if Cash got his hands on me, the good-bye would last too long. “We’ll be fine. Just remember, no heroics. I mean it,” she said.

  “I’ll be back,” I said to both of them. To all three of them.

  Sues wasted no time; she stood on tiptoes and kissed Dave on the lips. Most I’d heard her say had been her yelling at our fearless captain. She and Dave, they hit it off though. Think desperate situations formed fast bonds. There was a textbook name for it. Two people in a crisis oftentimes fall in love. Crisis ends, isn’t long before whatever relationship was started is also over. Different circumstances, I would have busted his chops and given him a hard time. Instead, when he looked at me, I nodded.

  We got off the boat. Vitale looked back. Keel stared at us, at him. Neither looked away.

  Chapter Eleven

  2248 hours

  “You said your satellite phone isn’t reaching anyone,” I said.

  Vitale looked at me. “It’s pockets of people. Just pockets. And no one in New York, best we can tell.”

  “We saw D.C. on the news a few days ago.”

  “Gone. Virus hit them hard. Everyone and their mother were vaccinated,” he said.

  “The president?”

  “To be honest, I haven’t heard a word, but I’m a sergeant, so not very high on the totem pole,” he said. “He wasn’t vaccinated. Vice president either. I’m sure they’re in hiding somewhere secret and separated. To be honest, he’s no one now, just a survivor like you or me, but he has a fancy as shit bunker to wait it all out in. That’s the difference.”

  “So what was this? This facility? I mean, if there’s no government…”

  “Never said there was no government. Just a lot fewer of them, is all. Hell, they needed some serious down-sizing anyway.” He laughed in a short, guttural burst. “This camp is military. Medical. What we were told almost a week ago is that they’re set up around the country. Going to be used for research. A way to find a cure to un-infect the diseased.”

  “We were going to be guinea pigs?”

  “Blood samples only. It isn’t asking much. Doctors need clean blood to work on ways to fight the virus, which is an oxymoron, since a vaccination against a virus was what caused it all in the first place. Point is, if you didn’t get inoculated, your blood is prime real estate.”

  “But, I mean, I thought I heard it was a contaminated vial that impacted a shipment of vaccinations that got sent out, so a case full of people were given the medicine. However many vials are in a shipment, or a case. I don’t get why this is so widespread,” I said, knowing my desperation for answers was transparent as shit.

  “You heard wrong. The vaccinations against the H7N9 were contaminated. Not every shipment, but most. Apparently, the vial that broke wasn’t immediately discovered. The contaminant was in the air, fouling up shit for nearly twenty-four hours before someone spotted broken glass under one of the workstations. That stuff…that contaminant…managed to find its way into everything. Went out in shipments across the country. The entire country and this is where it gets worse -- overseas. I have no idea what kind of fucked-up shit’s going on in Europe, but I can bet it ain’t any prettier over there than it is over here,” Vitale said.

  I stared at him.

  He stared back.

  “You knew. The military knew.”

  “We got word about the vaccination issues, but as they say, far too late. The elderly, the young, they were first in line. Most first responders, your firemen, police officers, paramedics and a good portion of the military, too were in trouble and we knew it. What we didn’t know, couldn’t know, was the side effects. That. This. These zombies. No one knew.”

  “Holy fucking shit. You knew. Most of the military spared?” Dave
said.

  “Most? No, they were not, son.”

  “And what happened to them.” I pointed toward the camp. “To everyone here?”

  “We’re about to find out.”

  I had numerous questions that I wanted answered, but now wasn’t the time. I only prayed there would be time later. It felt like there might not be and that worried me.

  “Look, I’m leaving one of you here. Right fucking here,” Vitale said. He pointed a finger and jabbed it toward the captain, “That fucker tries to move the boat, you shoot him. Fucking headshot.”

  “Sir?” Marf let his eyes move from the captain to his sergeant. “You’re not serious, sir?”

  “The fuck I’m not. When we left the port, when we all climbed onto the vessel there, Captain Travis up there, he hadn’t heard shit from the camp. In hours. How long it take us to get here? Like four five hours. And nothing from the camp. The whole time. Nothing. Got the crewman up there trying to reach someone. Anyone. Think that fucking captain shared any of that information with us? He didn’t. Not with you and not with me. So we boated all the way the fuck out here, and we now I’ve got three soldiers out there. And fuck if I have heard from them in, how long, Spade?”

  “About six minutes,” he said.

  “Six fucking minutes of radio silence since we heard about Barron. Six fucking minutes. So yeah, I’m serious as shit. Keel tries to pull away from the dock, blow the fuckers brains all over his own damned deck.” Sergeant Vitale grit his teeth. He knew Keel heard every word. Wanted it known not as a threat, but a promise.

  “I’ll stay,” Spencer said.

  “You can do it, soldier?”

  “Kill that captain? Yes, sir.” Spencer stood at attention.

  Vitale nodded. “This is your command. You protect those people on board. We’ll keep in touch as best we can. We’re going to operate under radio silence as best we can. Everyone understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” we said.

  “Fine, you can at-ease. Just keep your eyes open, got me? Watch the boat, the water and the land. This fog is going to be tough as shit seeing much of anything,” Vitale said.