Dead America The First Week (Book 1): Carolina Front

by Slaton, Derek

  Frank stepped forward. “However, we know some of you have family that you may want to attempt to reach. Everyone in this room has done more than their fair share, so you’ve earned the right to make this choice.”

  In unison, Martinez, Cole and Owens all stepped up to the front of the line.

  “I’m in sir.”

  “Same.”

  “Let’s get it done.”

  “Guys,” one of the young soldiers stammered. “I’m so sorry, but I have to decline. I have a wife and a three year old on base… and I have to get them to safety… I…”

  Sergeant Long put his hand on the young soldier’s shoulder. “You don’t owe us any explanation. It’s been an honor serving with you, son.”

  “Get your family to Camp Lejeune,” Terrell said. “They are going to be evacuating the military out to sea, and you might have a chance at getting them on one of the ships.”

  The young soldier nodded. “Thank you, sir.” He hurried out of the room, one of his teammates clapping him on the back as he went.

  “Well, Graham,” Long said, and took a step towards the strike team. “Looks like you’re a man short. Permission to join?”

  Terrell nodded, eyes shining with emotion. “Can’t think of a better person to be watching my back.”

  “My squad, gear up, and be at the chopper in five,” Frank barked.

  Terrell turned to his team. “Boys, secure us a couple of Humvees and meet outside in fifteen. Have to go have a word with the Lieutenant Colonel before we depart. The Sarge here will brief you in detail on the situation.”

  There was a round of salutes as the two new Sergeants stepped away from the group.

  “So, you got a pen and paper for my shopping list, dear?” Frank asked.

  Terrell pointed a finger right at his friend’s nose. “Just for that, you’re getting a Hello Kitty bedroom set.”

  “I was always kinda partial to My Little Pony, but beggars can’t be choosers.” The shorter man shrugged.

  His bald friend laughed. “I knew you were a closet Brony.”

  “Hey, what I do on my downtime is none of your concern,” Frank replied, and they shook hands, pulling in for a half-hug.

  “You be safe out there, man,” Terrell murmured. “It’s gonna be a grade-a shitshow in a few hours.”

  “I’ll see you in thirty-six hours,” Frank said firmly.

  His friend nodded. “Damn straight you will. Can’t let you be running your own little kingdom all by your lonesome.”

  They bumped fists one last time, and then parted.

  Frank headed straight for the helipad and hopped inside, his team already strapped in and ready to go. He slipped on his headset and buckled up.

  “We good to go, Sergeant?” the pilot asked, voice loud and clear through the earpiece.

  Frank nodded and shot him a thumbs-up. “Affirmative. What’s our ETA?”

  “Should have you on the ground in an hour-fifteen, sir,” the pilot replied.

  “Outstanding,” the Sergeant said. “I’m going to be briefing my men on the situation. I don’t know if you have official clearance to listen in or not, but fuck it. If you are going to be going into this shit with us, you have a right to know.”

  The pilot nodded as he lifted off into the early morning light. “Thank you sir,” he said. “Hang tight.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Terrell walked into a large office full of bustling soldiers. Some were frantically typing on computers, others running around with armloads of books and paperwork. Lieutenant Colonel Wagner stood in the center of all of the madness, phone at his ear.

  “Colonel Wagner?” Terrell greeted, and the older man held up a finger.

  “That’s right, use anything and everything you can find for transport,” he said into the receiver. “I don’t care if you have to go rent fucking U-Hauls, just get it done.” He hung up the phone, and then turned to the Sergeant. “My apologies. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m Sergeant Graham,” Terrell said. “General Adams instructed me to coordinate with you.”

  “Ah yeah, my Delta Force team,” Wagner replied. “At least the higher ups haven’t completely abandoned me.”

  The bald soldier raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”

  “Sorry, just venting.” The older man waved a hand. “They’re only leaving me with five hundred men to fortify this base and also get supplies for whatever the fuck they’re doing in Charlotte. To complicate things, I also have to help coordinate the evacuation of the base. So I’ll be blunt, Sergeant. Do you know what you’re doing?”

  Terrell nodded. “I’d like to think I do.”

  “Fan-fucking-tastic,” Wagner replied. “LYNCH!” he barked. “Get over here!”

  Corporal Lynch, a young man who looked about thirty minutes removed from his senior prom, scurried over. “Yes, sir!”

  “Sergeant Graham, meet Corporal Lynch,” Wagner introduced, wiggling his finger back and forth between them. “Corporal, the Sergeant here is going to be lending a hand to your planning.”

  Terrell raised an eyebrow. “I am?”

  “Hey, you said you know what you’re doing,” the Lieutenant Colonel insisted. “And yeah, I know, he looks like he’d lose a fist fight with a fucking snowman, but his brain works better than most of the computers in this dump. He just lacks your real world expertise.” The phone trilled and he picked it up. “Hold on,” he said into the phone, and then turned to Terrell. “You need anything, you come find me,” he instructed, and then turned his back to take his call.

  “Sergeant,” Lynch piped up, “I’m set up in the back room here, if you’d like to join me.”

  Terrell shrugged. “Lead the way, young man.” He followed the kid who couldn’t be much more than half his age into a small square room.

  There was a large table in the center with a map of the base and the city. Lynch motioned his new friend closer.

  “Damn son.” Terrell whistled as he inspected the various pins and drawings all over the maps. “You’ve been busy.”

  “If what I’m hearing is accurate,” the young Corporal replied, “there isn’t any time to waste.”

  Terrell nodded. “Lay it out for me.”

  “Over the next three hours, this base is going to be evacuated, leaving us with roughly five hundred men to accomplish this task,” Lynch said. “We have a trio of transport helos, four ground transports, and a half dozen Humvees. On this city map, I’ve pinned the most likely places we can source vital items. Solar panels, greenhouse building materials, medications, et cetera. Those are in red. The green flags are secondary comfort items. Bedrolls, winter clothing, and so forth.”

  Terrell raised an eyebrow. “Might want to add some Charmin to the list. Pretty sure that’s going to be a popular request.”

  “Valid point, consider it done,” Lynch agreed, and jotted it down in his notebook. “The blue flags are for food and need to be our top priority. We are loading down the first transport with MRE’s, but it’s not a long term solution and they’re going to need supplements of real food if they are going to remain healthy.”

  The Sergeant nodded. “And what about fortifications?”

  “That’s what I’m having issues with,” Lynch admitted. “We have manpower but we don’t have the material to make it happen.”

  “We’re never going to be able to reinforce everything in time, so this is what we need to do,” Terrell said. “Create an interior perimeter that gives us access to the necessities and the helo landing pad.”

  “I like the idea, but how?” the young Corporal asked.

  The taller man pointed to the map. “There are a couple of car dealerships up the road. Send two companies up to—ahem—borrow some vehicles. Have two other companies begin planting rebar at an angle to reinforce the cars. That should be a good emergency barricade that allows us to shoot over should the main get get breached.”

  “Consider it done, sir,” Lynch replied with a firm nod. “Now, what do you need from
me?”

  “Send two of the transports out to collect food, and send the other two to the Humvee lot,” Terrell instructed. “I’m hitting the hardware store. They should be open to the contractors now, which gives the potential for resistance.”

  The Corporal nodded. “I’ll have them there by the time you get there.”

  “You keep this shit up Corporal, and assuming we survive this I’m probably going to end up saluting you.” Terrell smiled.

  Lynch nodded solemnly. “Here’s hoping, sir. Good luck.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Sergeant Kyle, welcome to Charlotte,” a short and moderately overweight man with balding white hair greeted.

  Frank held out his hand to shake. “You must be Bill Huff,” he said.

  “In the flesh,” Bill replied. “Let’s walk and talk.” He led the group away from the chopper, and deeper into the stadium, which was a hive of activity. There were soldiers everywhere, scrambling around to prepare for the supplies coming in.

  “So, how are we looking, Bill?” Frank asked as he surveyed the soldiers building barricades around the outer rim of the stadium.

  “We have three companies with about three hundred and fifty men,” the old man replied. “A good number of them are securing the entrances to make them impenetrable, while most of them are scouring the city in search of the rank and file civilians to keep this place running.”

  “Looking good,” Frank said. “I’m going to need a transport vehicle, armored assault Humvee, and a local navigator. Could probably use a few grunts as well.”

  “I figured as much,” Bill replied. “I have them standing by for you. What else do you need?”

  The dark haired Sergeant cocked his head. “Who is the highest ranking officer here?”

  “Other than you, sir, that would be Sergeant Lambert,” the old man replied.

  Frank nodded. “Have him meet us at the transports, if you would.”

  Bill pulled a radio from his belt and clicked the button. “Sergeant Lambert to the transport garage immediately,” he said, and there was a crackling affirmative in response. “He’s on the way. Something else you should know. While you were in transit, John sent in a secondary VIP target. His name is Doctor Mullins, and he specializes in airborne pathogens. He’s currently at one of the hospitals downtown.”

  “He’ll be our first stop, then,” Frank said.

  Bill furrowed his brow. “He’s a secondary target, Sergeant.”

  “If he’s valuable, then we need to get him first,” Frank insisted. “This virus makes people sick before they turn, which means they’re going to be going to the hospital. If we don’t get the doc out now, then we aren’t going to get him. Plus we can pick up some medical supplies and nurses while we’re there. I’m guessing we don’t have an abundance of either of those.”

  “That we do not, sir,” Bill agreed. “The navigator knows where to go.”

  He led the team into a garage area, housing an armored Humvee outfitted with a 50 cal machine gun. A large transport stood behind it, ready and waiting to be filled with supplies. There was a thin dark haired man standing next to it, and he straightened upon the group’s approach.

  “Sergeant, this is Jason, he’ll be your navigator,” Bill said.

  Frank nodded. “You know your way around?”

  “Spent the last five years as a taxi driver taking drunks, businessmen, and drunk businessmen to everyplace in the city,” Jason replied.

  “Good enough for me,” the Sergeant agreed. “Just keep the small talk to a minimum.”

  The cab driver nodded. “Not a problem, sir.”

  A tall and lanky man with sandy hair strode over. “Sergeant Lambert, reporting.”

  “Sergeant, how are we looking on the fortifications?” Frank asked.

  “About eighty-five percent complete, sir,” Lambert replied with a salute. “We will be one hundred percent within the hour.”

  “Good to hear it,” the dark haired man replied. “Once it’s locked down, nobody gets in or out unless they have a military escort. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Lambert replied.

  Frank nodded. “The party is gonna get started when the sun comes up, so we can expect civilians to get wind of what we’re doing here. They are not to be let in under any circumstances. I prefer you use non-lethal force against them, but protecting this facility is the only thing that matters. If your men are fired upon, you have a green light.”

  “Sir, you want us to fire on civilians?” Lambert gasped.

  “It’s not my first choice,” Frank admitted, “but we have to protect this place at all costs. We’re in a fight for our survival, and that sometimes requires us to do unpleasant things. If you don’t think you’re up to the task, I’ll promote someone who is.”

  The sandy-haired Sergeant puffed out his chest. “I’ll get it done, sir.”

  “That’s what I like to hear, soldier!” Frank barked. “Alright, let’s move like we have a purpose.” He hopped into the passenger seat of the Humvee, two of his team scrambling into the back. The other four manned the transport as he leaned out the window. “Bill, we’re gonna grab the doc and then come back here to reload before going after the engineers,” he said. “When that first transport comes in, I’m going to need you to get a care package set up for us. Ammo, explosives, and anything else you can think of that might help us get out of a sticky situation.”

  “It will be ready and waiting,” Bill assured him.

  “I’m starting to think John may have undersold you.” The Sergeant smirked.

  The old man gave a jovial salute. “Wouldn’t be the first time, sir. Good luck.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The sky was still dark as Terrell pulled up to a large hardware store. The parking lot had a smattering of pickup trucks strewn about, contractors loading up for their workdays. Most of them froze and stared at the few dozen military men in full gear bustled into the store.

  Terrell approached the service counter. Off to the side was a short slight woman with long brown hair in the hardware store uniform. She had her hand on a customer’s arm as he coughed violently. The customer’s companion pointed at the entourage, and the service woman turned, bringing a delicate hand to her mouth.

  “Oh my,” she breathed, eyes wide. “Can… can I help you?”

  Terrell smiled his most charming smile, glanced at her name tag, and leaned on the counter. “Why yes you can, Estelle,” he said gently. “See, my friends and I are in need of some supplies, and we would be eternally grateful if you could point us in the right direction.”

  “I think I can do that,” she replied, relaxing visibly at his conversational tone. “What are you looking for today?”

  “Well, for starters, we need some solar panel kits,” he said.

  She nodded. “That would be aisle thirteen,” she said, and he waved his hand at a group of men. They took carts and headed off to aisle thirteen.

  “I also need to build some greenhouses,” Terrell continued, pulling the woman’s attention back to his chocolate eyes. “You have anything to help with that?”

  “Garden center is on the other side of the store,” she replied. “There’s potting soil and seeds too, should you need that.”

  He gave another wave and the rest of the troops took off. “You have been most helpful, Estelle,” he said with another award-winning smile. “Lovely name, by the way.”

  She blushed. “Oh, thank you, I-”

  The customer that had been coughing gave a loud hack and Estelle turned back to them, brow furrowed.

  “Are you alright, sir?” she asked.

  The non-coughing customer nodded. “He’ll live. Too much partying this weekend and his old ass can’t keep up.”

  “Okay, well if he needs anything-”

  “What in the hell is going on here?” A booming voice was followed by a heavyset man with a combover, wandering out from the back office. “Estelle, why are you ignoring our customers for these
military boys?”

  She flushed. “It seemed important, sir.”

  “We’re in no hurry,” the non-coughing customer said as his friend doubled over.

  Terrell straightened. “Sir, I’m Sergeant Graham and I-”

  “I don’t give a good goddamn who you are,” the heavyset man barked. “Why are you in my store?”

  The Sergeant took a deep breath. “As I was saying,” he continued, “we have an emergency situation that requires us to appropriate some goods from your store.”

  “Now wait a goddamn minute,” the man snapped, and narrowed his eyes. “Estelle, call the police right now.”

  She blanched. “But, Mr. Francis-”

  “I said now, you worthless little bitch,” her boss snarled.

  Terrell glared at him. “You should really watch your tone.”

  “And you,” Mr. Francis growled, taking a step towards the Sergeant, “do you really think I’m gonna let some nig-”

  Terrell lashed out, cutting him off with a hand to the bastard’s windpipe. Mr. Francis gasped for air, dropping to one knee, and the Sergeant leaned down, lips ghosting his ear.

  “I know you are in a bit of pain right now.” His voice was quiet, but the undertones of menace were not lost on the fat hardware store manager. “But believe me, I just did you a favor. I’ve had to deal with racist pricks like you my entire life, but I always bit my tongue. Because I knew if I ever spoke up or, god forbid, raised a hand and smacked down one of you doughy assholes, I never would have made it out of my shithole of a home town.

  “But now, things have changed. In a matter of hours, the world as you know it is going to come crashing down around you, which means I don’t have to put up with your racist bullshit anymore. So if I hadn’t rudely interrupted your little speech there, and you said what we all know you were about to say, you would no longer be conscious.” He stood up. “You’re welcome.”

  The coughing man fell to the floor, and his friend attempted to catch him, failing miserably. There was a crack as the fallen man’s head smacked off of the concrete.