He pushed it again and again with the same result. Realizing this was quickly going south, he paused for a minute and reached behind his seat and produced a box with a flare gun stored inside. He opened the box and was pleased to see that he still had two flares. “That should do it.” He loaded a flare into the gun.
Hutch checked around his van for any visitors and found the area clear. He opened the door and stood in the opening, aiming the flare gun toward the reopened main door of the theater. With his target sighted in, he fired and watched as the flare fell way short of his intended target. It just skipped a few times along the ground and stopped about 40-yards shy of the doors. “Damn it,” he yelled. He realized that he was going to have to get a lot closer than intended to make his plan happen.
Aggravated but determined, he cranked the van up and pulled in closer to the theater, a lot closer than he wanted to be, if he’d calculated the explosion correctly. Again, he leaned out of the doorway and aimed. He fired the flare. This time it looked good until, at the last second, a rather large slab appeared in the doorway and the flare struck it squarely in the chest, ricocheting off into another direction. Thankfully the flare set the huge slab on fire, but again it looked as if his plan was not going to work out after all.
Hutch sat in amazement as he watched the burning slab walk away from the building. He just could not believe his luck. He figured he might have to fall back and write the campaign off until he noticed the now fully-engulfed slab had turned back around and was headed toward the doors again.
He took the opportunity to put his van in reverse and hightail it backward as fast as he could go to put as much distance between him and the ensuing explosion.
Suddenly the cab filled with a blinding light and Hutch felt the shockwave, as the slab finally made its way into the gasoline-soaked building. Hutch was shaken by the force of the explosion and almost lost control of his van until he swung it around to face the direction he was just driving. Moments later, he heard the debris and shrapnel from the detonation begin to rain down atop the van and roadway all around him, and still more fly off ahead of his vehicle. Desperate to not let his own trap be his downfall, he stomped on the gas and drove like a madman until he felt he was a safe distance away. Looking in his rearview mirror, he could see the huge mushroom cloud behind him and thought, judging by the size of the explosion, that just maybe the gas was in a little better condition than he’d thought..
He exited the van and walked around to the back to watch the glow in the distance continue to burn bright. Although he was happy with the eventual results, he was not pleased he had been forced to put himself so close to the danger to accomplish the task. He decided to go ahead and bid farewell to Nashville and head on to his next destination. As he turned to walk back to the driver’s side, he saw a piece of shrapnel had slightly penetrated the back door to his van. He grabbed hold of it and realized it wasn’t a piece from the building, but was a femur from one of the slabs inside. He let out a small laugh as he yanked it out of the door and threw it away before he climbed back inside.
As he withdrew the map from his inside pocket, he put an X over Nashville and plotted his course to his next stop. “Oh, yeah, I’m looking forward to this one!” He drew a red line from Nashville to Hilton Head, South Carolina.
CHAPTER 47
Benjy, Kyle, and Ron
The wind roared through the camp, and David struggled to keep a steady footing as he made his way to the armory. Upon entering, he found Kyle and Yankee Dave watching Benjy crack open a large wooden crate. “Hey, whatcha got in there?” The two observers shushed him. Not being one to argue, David took up a position on the opposite side of the crate to see what the big reveal would be.
Benjy gave one final push on the crowbar, and the lid flipped to the ground at David’s feet. Inside were numerous smaller boxes, labeled AA-12 on top. The cadre of observers looked confused, not yet understanding what they were seeing in front of them. David was the first to react. As he leaned down to remove one of the smaller boxes, he heard a voice chime in from behind him.
“Oh, wow! Where did you get a hold of those?” asked Kenny. He’d just entered through the door and immediately noticed the huge crate full of goodies the guys all stood around. He shifted around David and grabbed one for himself and proceeded to open the box and inspect it. “I saw these in basic, but never got to play with one,” Kenny removed the firearm and held it up for the others to see.
“What the hell is it?” Kyle asked.
“This, my boys,” Benjy answered, “is the Atchisson Assault shotgun, more commonly know as the Auto-Assault-12, made exclusively for the military. They are fully automatic and can use regular eight round mags, but the best part, for us, is they are also capable of using 24- or 30-round drum mags. I was sitting on these for a special occasion, and I figured this qualified.”
As they started to unpack the crates, Kenny and Benjy ran down the instructions on how to use them and what they were capable of doing. Kyle lined the weapons up across the room as they were unpacked and counted out 24 of them. Meanwhile, Benjy and David stepped outside to Benjy’s truck and returned with several boxes of ammo and magazines for the weapons.
“This should give us the ability to fight off a sizeable horde and maybe even survive the next 24-hours,” Benjy replied as he showed the guys how to load the magazines.
The next hour was spent loading up all the magazines and laying out a strategy for who would use them and where. As the last magazines were loaded, David took off to gather the members of the camp who would be given one of the weapons, and bring them back to the armory for training.
With a good plan in place, and Yankee Dave and Kenny willing to do the training of the other camp members, Benjy and Kyle decided it was time to slip away and discuss other things. They headed out the back door of the armory and toward Kyle’s house.
As the pair made their way, Kyle was caught off guard by a sudden burst of wind and was knocked off his feet. Benjy reached down and offered him a hand back up.
“This is getting bad. I think we’re in the direct path of this storm,” Kyle yelled to Benjy through the howling wind.
Benjy nodded in agreement, and they quickly made their way to the house. As they entered they found 9-Finger Brian standing in the hallway with Patch and Renee. They each held their bug-out bags; every member of the camp had similar bags at the ready in case they ever had to make a sudden retreat from the camp.
“Daddy, I want to stay with you and help fight the bad guys,” Patch said as he ran to Kyle.
“I know, big guy, but I need you to go with Brian to the kitchen so you can help protect everybody there. They’ll be scared, but with you there, it’ll make them feel better. That is way more important than what I’ll be doing.”
“Okay, but you know where I am if you need me, right?” Patch responded giving his dad a stern look. “What about Hope? Is she coming with us to get better?”
“No. Hope is going to stay in her bed here, but Storm is going to stay to protect her. If she gets better, though, I will send her to you so you can come help me. Now give me a minute with Brian and then y’all can go.” Kyle led Brian away from the kids while Benjy stayed behind to talk to them.
“You good with this?” Kyle asked Brian as they shut his bedroom door behind them.
“What? You mean stay inside nice and dry and babysit the youngins? Yeah, I would much rather be outside in the worst storm I’ve ever seen, fighting slabs and dodging debris with all you fools.” Brian did his best to fight the grin spreading across his face.
“Trust me, if I had a choice, we would all be holed up inside. Nobody wants to be out in this weather, but after what we saw heading our way, we have to be ready for anything. David has the Devastator parked by the garage of the kitchen in case you have to evacuate. It isn’t going to be the most stable thing to drive in this mess, but it should be heavy enough to handle the weather to get to the fallback spot, if the worst-case scenario
happens. Christi and Josey will be there, too, to help with the kids. You’re mainly there for protection. After you get all the kids to the kitchen, head over to the armory and see Yankee Dave. He has some goodies that’ll help if you need them.”
“Gotcha, boss,” Brian said. He knew it caused Kyle to shudder every time he heard the term. “We’ll be good in there, and if we have to abandon ship, I’ll personally make sure nothing happens to the kids.” He then slapped Kyle on the back as he headed back to gather up the children.
“Renee, come here for a minute,” Kyle beckoned down the hall.
He took her into the room and gave her a big hug. “I just wanted to tell you it’s going to be okay. We will pull through this.”
“Dad, I’m not stupid. I know what we’re dealing with, but I’m not afraid. I know you and David will get us through this. And I will help keep the little ones safe. But after this is over and we get things back to normal, I want to take on more of an active role in helping out around here.”
Kyle was caught off guard by her bravery and could only smile. “Okay, you got it. Now go get your brother over to the kitchen, and I’ll be by in a little while to check up.”
As Brian and the kids left, Kyle went into Hope’s room. The sight of his daughter tied to the bed made him shudder, but it was a necessary precaution. He leaned down and found her fever completely broken, and she wasn’t sweating anymore, either. The redness from the bite mark was noticeably lighter as well. Kyle’s anxiety was starting to lessen.
Benjy stood behind him and also observed the improvements in Hope. He chimed in, “I’m beginning to think you might be right about the possibility of being immune to the virus. But I have to ask, did you go through similar symptoms after your bite?”
“Actually, no I didn’t. The worst I got was a severe headache and a little dizziness. No fever or anything to this extreme. Whatcha think of that?”
“I have a few guesses, but until we see her wake up, I’ll keep them to myself for now.”
Kyle wanted to argue that even a guess was better than nothing at this point, but his concern for his daughter overrode his desire to push for more information.
“I don’t want to leave her here alone, but I’m needed outside to help secure the camp,” Kyle said as he assessed his options. Before he could ask Benjy to stay with her, the front door of the house opened and Ron and Josey entered with a large gust of wind accompanying them. Kyle stepped awkwardly out of Hope’s room, not sure what Josey’s mindset would be, and watched as the two new arrivals struggled to shut the door behind them. After a few tries they finally got the door shut and turned to face Kyle. “Ron, how’re you feeling, big guy?”
“Not too bad. Got a good headache from whatever hit me. The bandage my wife insisted I wear got ripped off in the wind on the way over here.” Ron bent down to show Kyle a little cut on the back of his head where he had been struck. “I’ve had worse paper cuts than this, but you know how protective my baby can be.”
“Yeah, I do.” Kyle caught the sharp look from Josey.
“Water under the bridge,” Josey said. “He’s okay, so I guess we’ll just forget my earlier outburst.” She then moved past Kyle and into Hope’s room.
“Yeah, I’m good with that,” Kyle said as he inched out of her way. “So you up for some action tonight?” Kyle asked Ron.
“Actually, I’m here to watch over Hope. Josey caught me up on everything that happened, and she thinks it’s best for someone to be here for whatever happens. Someone that can make the hard decision if it comes to that, and unfortunately, she thinks that person is me.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be an option you’ll have to worry about.” Kyle waved Ron into Hope’s room. “Let me catch you two up on some details that may clarify my actions.”
Kyle recounted all the events they were unaware of, like his own bite wound, for starters. As he walked them through the history of his decision, the storm outside raged on and only grew stronger by the minute.
CHAPTER 48
EIGHT MONTHS PRIOR TO THE CAMP H INVASION
President Miller, Kane, and Aldrick
President Miller pacedoutside his former office for nearly an hour as he waited to be let in to see the man who had usurped his place in the government. He’d been shunned by his former security detail, and his personal secretary was sent home and told not talk to him for the time being. With every minute that passed,his frustration grew. He had already punched two holes into the sheetrock wall and was on his way to adding a third, when the door swung open and his former head of security, Mr. Watkins, asked him to come in.
As Miller entered his former office, he saw two distinct changes had already been made. First was the position of his desk; it had originally been situated facing the large window overlooking the beach and Atlantic Ocean, but now it was sitting on the far side of the room, almost as far from the window as it could get. The second was the American flag had been removed and replaced with a new flag Miller didn’t recognize, one emblazoned with a yellow star, and something wrapped around it. The way it draped down on the pole he couldn’t get a good look at it to try and place what it represented. Miller continued across the room looking for Mr. Kane when he heard the door shut behind him and turned to find he had been left alone. He decided to inspect the flag more closely and was almost to it when he heard a voice from behind announce its presence.
“Mr. Miller, I apologize for taking up so much of your time this evening. I can only assume you have quite a few questions at this time, and I will do my best to answer them.” Kane had entered the room from the adjacent bathroom. “Please have a seat, and let us begin.”
Miller began to walk toward his former chair on the opposite side of the desk, but in a moment of clarity, the day’s events told him the office no longer belonged to him. Instead, he pulled up the smaller guest chair and took a seat. “Mr. Kane … or is it just Kane?”
“Firstly, Kane will be fine. However, before you begin, let me say a few things. You may find after I have finished speaking that the vast majority of your questions will have been answered. It is my hope this will prevent us from wasting any more of one another’s time than is absolutely necessary.”
The man spoke so eloquently and calmly that it took Miller a moment to hear the underlying threat of power in his tone. Miller felt sure that although Kane was calm and collected at the moment, there was something about his presence the was afraid of, even if he couldn’t pinpoint what that was.
Kane took a seat in the presidential chair at the relocated desk. “You will retain the title of president. You shall be the face people see and the voice they hear. However, I will be the one to make all the decisions regarding any and all activity that passes through this office. I will expect you to immediately perform any and all directives given, and I shall expect you to do so without question. My goal here is not to usurp you … ah, let me rephrase that, I am not here to usurp you publicly. I am here for one reason, and one reason alone, and that is to purge this plague that is currently vexing us. When that task is accomplished, I will depart and you will still be in power and able to rebuild as you see fit. For now however, I will be joined shortly by several of my colleagues. Once they arrive I will expect you to steer clear of us and not make yourself a nuisance and allow us to do what we need to do. As for your military leaders, they have all been notified of the change in command and they have willingly chosen to accept it. Until my colleagues and I conclude our business and leave, you will be relocated to the lower floors, as we will need this space to handle the day-to-day business. I do hope this has helped to clear up any confusion and frustration you must be feeling. Do you have any further questions?” Kane leaned back to take a sip from the wine glass he’d poured himself before he sat down.
His earlier fear temporarily forgotten, Miller felt his blood boiling, and he paused before he opened his mouth to make sure he spoke with wisdom and not passion. Unfortunately, that trick didn’t work and
Miller snapped to his feet and leaned down, slamming his clinched fist on the desk in front of Kane. “Now wait one second here. I am the president of the United States of America, and I am not going to be talked to in this manner. I don’t know who you are, but with your thick accent, I can tell you aren’t from around here. I don’t care what you did wherever you came from, but this is not how it is done here. The American people put me in place to keep them safe from outside invasions, and they will not tolerate this one bit.” A little bit of Miller’s southern accent had seeped into his tirade, making him feel a bit self-conscious. After he took a very long breath, he again gathered his composure and was about to continue his rant, but was cut short by Kane before he could begin, and in a tone that instantly froze the blood in Miller’s veins.
“Mr. Miller, I suggest you refrain from taking that sort of tone. It is not wise for you to anger me.” He then stood up quickly from his chair and started to move around the desk to close the gap between the two of them. As if he had not just delivered a not so veiled threat, he smiled, and once again appeared calm and collected. “Please, walk with me to the window. I would like to enlighten you to the truth of the situation.”
Kane guided Miller to the window and pointed out into the night toward the ocean. “Do you see those lights out there?”
Miller squinted and saw the lights of a ship bobbing in the distance. “Yes. What is that? Your invasion force?” He thought for sure he knew what this was leading to.
Kane chuckled. “No, my dear man. Those are simply the first of many supply ships that I have arranged to bring you and your people some much needed relief. At the moment, there are five ships inbound. Three contain food and medications, and the last two are full of clothing and building supplies. You, Mr. Miller, will take the credit for those incoming supplies, and your people will not only feel a touch of normalcy, they will be in awe of you … of you and your ability to help them. It will be the first step in securing your position.”
Humanity's Hope (Book 1): Camp H Page 21
