The Oort Plague

by Cliff Deane

  “Dr. Deen,” asked the President, “pray tell, what good news do you have for us?”

  Deen said, “Sir, as always seems to be the case, I have both good and not so good news. Sadly, we have not, as yet, even been able to identify this virus, well, we believe it is a virus.

  “There is, however, some good news. We have been able to capture two males, and the information we are gleaning from these two creatures is staggering. We know how they initially devolved and the stages of that devolution. In fact, sir, they are still not finished in their change to Cro-Magnon.

  “The clothing worn by one of the captured males was much larger than we would have expected. The Mag must have been somewhat obese before the change, yet, in some still unknown way, that fat was transformed into muscle, and in only four days. The possible ramifications for future study are fascinating.

  “As you know, we take hourly air quality tests, and to date, we have seen no deterioration in the parts per million of the Mag-Flu. Mr. President, going outside is most definitely not advised.”

  “Thank you, Tyler. Mr. Freeman?”

  With a somewhat bitter, or perhaps arrogant smile, Freeman said, “Yes, Mr. President. To date, we have been unable to make any progress with a census. The only civilian contacts we have are from HAM Radio operators, and they also have no clue about survivor numbers. We shall, of course, continue in our efforts to make headway on your guidance.”

  “Thank you, Norman. General Morse, perhaps our military could be of some assistance to Mr. Freeman.”

  General Morse, who intensely disliked Norman Freeman said, “Yes sir, I will instruct each commander to begin a database of survivors. I think we could provide weekly numbers for Mr. Freeman’s calculator.” He made this statement without once looking at the FEMA Director.

  Freeman’s face took on a sour expression as he said, “Mr. President, I do not think that we need the help of the military on this issue…”

  Holcomb interrupted, saying, “Really? You don’t seem to have made any grand strides to date, or have I missed something? Norman, you stated that you do not think, rather than believe. I must say that I agree with you, in that you don’t think. Your obvious hatred for our military is beyond the pale…”

  Freeman stood, saying, “Mr. President, I do not have to remain here taking such abuse. You will have my resignation within the hour.”

  “Excellent choice, sir, your resignation is duly recorded in the minutes of this meeting. I accept your resignation with prejudice and absolutely no regret whatsoever at your departure. You are excused. Good day, sir.”

  And with that, Freeman, who was somewhat stunned that, under the circumstances, President Holcomb would actually accept his resignation, left the room in a huff.

  Norman Freeman was a holdover from the previous administration, and because of this interaction, the President asked his Chief of Staff to remain after the briefing to discuss a replacement.

  25 April 2118

  Braves Stadium

  Atlanta, GA

  Jake decided that he, Gale, and Russell would fly into the landing zone with the Security Force, much to the chagrin of First Sergeant Tomlin, who was needed to ramrod the loading and movement of the main body to Atlanta.

  “Sir,” said a concerned First Sergeant, “I am not, at all, happy with you going in with the security folks to establish the perimeter. We haven’t even been able to utilize drones to inspect the area. Captain, are you sure I can’t talk you out of this foolishness?”

  “Top, I believe that a commander leads best who leads from the front. I know, it’s possible that I’m stepping on my pecker with golf shoes, but I am goin’ in.…tell you what, Top. I’ll observe the operation from the air, and we’ll land five minutes after the security force goes in and the equipment has been off-loaded, deal?”

  “Okay, sir, I like that, and I like the lead from the front stuff, but please, do me a favor, huh?”

  “Sure, Top, what’s the favor?” asked Jake.

  “Just don’t get your head bashed in. I’m havin’ a hard-enough time breakin’ you in, so I don’t want to start from scratch with your replacement. Oh, yeah, and don’t you dare get LT Storm or that dog hurt, sir.”

  “Deal, Top, I’ll see you in a few hours,” and with that Jake boarded the chopper and departed for Atlanta. The Rangers had thoroughly studied the layout of Braves Stadium and three-man teams were dispatched to secure the five known entrances of the field.

  The landing went smoothly, as all the Rangers and their equipment were off-loaded. However, once the choppers were out of sight, hundreds of Mags poured out of the entrances leading onto the field.

  Ten members of the security team were working to close to the underground entrances to the field and were quickly overwhelmed. The Rangers at once took up positions and began firing on the emerging enemy. The howls of the Mags as they rushed onto the overgrown field would have frightened many a young soldier, but these were not soldiers just out of training. No, these were Rangers. They stood their ground in the face of this terrifying assault. The fight lasted only a very few minutes, and no Mags got closer than ten feet from any member of the Security Force. The Rangers suffered no further casualties. History, however, would record this as the second worst day for military casualties since the Mags appeared as the Ranger losses topped 6%.

  Jake watched the surging force of Mags rush onto the field and immediately called in four Dust-Offs to remove the Ranger casualties. Following the fight, a new problem reared its ugly head. What to do with the hundreds of Mag bodies that now littered the field? Jake placed a call to General Merritt requesting CH-47s with sling attachments to be brought in to remove the bodies.

  General Merritt said, “Of course, Jake, they should be back on site in minutes. What are your plans for the bodies?”

  “Thank you, sir. Once the bodies are sling-loaded under the Chinooks, they will fly ten miles offshore and dump them in the Atlantic Ocean. I’m sure the sharks will appreciate the free meal.”

  “Good plan, Jake. I’m sorry to hear of your losses, but sometimes good men are simply out of position, with no time to react. Do you have plans for those entrances?”

  “Yes, sir, I intend to blow them to block the entryways. I see no reason to ask any of these fine young warriors to go down underground unless it is absolutely necessary, and this time it is not necessary. Sir, I am proud to tell you that within minutes, every Ranger in the company volunteered to go underground to kill those bastards.

  “Oh, sir, could you send a few electricians and a couple of dozers with those Chinooks? We should get the sprinklers turned on to soak the blood into the ground.”

  “Roger, Jake, they’re on the way.”

  “Thank you, sir, if there’s nothing else right now, would you please have your commo guy patch me in to First Sergeant Tomlin. I think we will delay the arrival of the Med Detachment until we have things a bit more cleaned up.”

  “Roger, Jake, here’s the Radioman.”

  25 April 2118

  Jake’s Crew

  Atlanta Zoo

  It didn’t take long for the drones to find a Mag nest. One flew over the Zoo and immediately spotted several Mags actually tending to the surviving animals.

  Both Jake and Gale wanted to run to the zoo, find a vantage point and begin their studies. Unfortunately, for them, that was not going to happen as quickly as they had hoped.

  A recon patrol was formed to move out after dark and scout the way to the potential observation post. The drone videos suggested what appeared to be an excellent site on the third floor of a building overlooking one of the open areas of the zoo.

  The scouting party returned at 0230 hours on 26 April 2118. Sergeant Jack Rainier reported his findings to Colonel Abraham’s team and First Sergeant Tomlin. He also had a pleasant surprise, “Sir, we can have you on the site and doing whatever it is you do within thirty minutes. I suggest you spend tomorrow putting together your supplies and any other gear you may nee
d, and we will get you on site by 0100 tomorrow night.

  “I also recommend that we establish two nearby Reaction Teams that can get to you in a matter of minutes. The route to the Zoo provides ample places for the RFs to remain hidden until you are ready to return to Home Plate, or you need a quick extraction.”

  “Sergeant, I like the plan. First Sergeant, please arrange for our necessary equipment to be ready for departure at 2400 hours.”

  Turning back to Sergeant Rainier, Jake asked, “Sergeant, get together with the First Sergeant and prepare a list of personnel and equipment you’ll need to get us on site to set up the RFs. That is, if you want the job?” smiled Jake.

  “Want the job, sir, if you gave it to someone else, I’d be really pissed. Yes, sir, of course I want the job. Top, when would you like to go over my lists?”

  First Sergeant Tomlin said, “0900, Tiger and don’t be late.”

  “No sweat, Top, see you at nine.”

  Once Sergeant Jack Rainier was dismissed, Captain Abraham and First Sergeant Tomlin looked at each other and in unison said, “Promote him.”

  25 April 2118

  Walmart,

  Prescott, AZ

  The General Manager of the M&K Gun Sales heard the KFNA Broadcast and called DJ Foote. “DJ, it’s Andy Baylor, man, it’s good to hear you made it.”

  “Andy, same here. We need you, my friend. Are you able to help arm and resupply our Various Prescott Militia Companies? We have now occupied every Walmart, Target, Costco, and small gun store within a twenty-five-mile swath from Prescott to Chino Valley and out to Dewey-Humbolt. So far, we’re doing well, but we need more weapons and ammo.”

  Andy said, “Yes, of course, but I will need some security and labor to get to the store and load up your trucks. Just tell me when you can fill those needs, and we’ll get her done. DJ, we have hundreds of weapons of just about every sort and a huge ammo supply. So, if you have the people, I’ll supply the support.”

  “Andy,” said an excited DJ, “if you were here right now, I’d kiss ya’.”

  Andy laughed and said, “Well, then I’d better shave extra close today in case we meet up.”

  After the two men stopped laughing, Andy asked about this Colonel Sharpe. “Does she really know what she’s doing,” asked Andy.

  “Oh, hell yes. She’s a career Army Gunship Pilot with, I think it was 11 combat deployments. I’m tellin’ you, Andy, she is a regular Joan of Arc. The troopers would follow her anywhere. Don’t you worry, she will lead us to the end of this Mag bovine scat.”

  “Bovine scat?” asked Andy, “Oh, wait, never mind, Bovine Scat is BS. I’m glad to hear that you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

  “Not bloody likely,” chuckled DJ, “but seriously, we are lucky to have her…very lucky.”

  Andy was thrilled to hear his old friend offer such high praise for Colonel Sharpe.

  “Say, DJ, what do you hear about the rest of the country.”

  DJ told Andy that things were not good elsewhere. “At least here in the U.S. we are fighting back, but there are just so many of them. It’s not that we don’t have the people willing to man-up, it’s the shortage of ammo. People everywhere are running out, and once they do, those Mag bastards just run over them. Now that the food in the big cities is running short, the Mags are moving out into the rural areas by the millions.

  “The military is trying to pass out weapons and ammo as quickly as they can, but the shortage of pilots and supply folks is making for tough going. We heard a broadcast from Cheyenne Mountain telling folks not to stand and die, but to fight a delaying action as they make their way to any of the hundreds of roadside resupply points. To make that stand to the last round is a bad idea. Hell, Andy, I heard that our military is down to only about one-hundred thousand or so.”

  “Holy, crap, is it really that bad everywhere?”

  DJ exhaled and said, “Andy, except for places like Israel, Switzerland, Afghanistan, and Yemen, the Mags rule the roost.”

  “Wait,” interrupted Andy, “did I just hear you say, Yemen? Why Yemen?”

  “Andy, Yemen has more guns than people, but from what I can glean for worldwide shortwave, the Yemenis will eventually starve right along with the Mags.”

  “Oh, man, say, what about Canada and Mexico?”

  “Mexico is off the air, and Canada is fading fast. Come winter, the Canadians will be dead, and millions more Mags will try to move south. At least our border with Mexico is walled off, but the desert would also help to keep the Mags from moving north. No, they’ll move south to more suitable growing conditions. Still, I’m grateful for that beautiful wall.

  “Places like Fort Bliss are being abandoned because there is just no food for the troops. They are moving north to places like Arkansas. The best climates are on the coasts, but that is also where most of the Mags are. It’s bad man, really bad.”

  “Wow,” said Andy, “I guess we should be really happy we live here in the Prescott Basin. I don’t think we’ll get any wandering Mags being a mile high, surrounded by deserts and granite mountains. Brother, with your help, I’m pretty sure that we can get rid of these Mag Ass Hats, we’ll be one of the safest places in the entire world.”

  “That, my friend, is exactly right. With the population reduction, we have plenty of water and a good growing season. Andy, I have to tell you that your call has come at a really good time. Hang on a minute and let me get Colonel Sharpe on the line. You two need to talk and arrange the meetup. I mean, this, Andy, you may have just saved the day. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

  Andy could hear DJ opening the door to his broadcast room and call for Colonel Sharpe.

  25 April 2118

  Fort Weather

  Lieutenant Colonel Eugene Porter arrived with a cadre of Officers and NCOs, along with a Platoon of Helicopter Pilots and Maintenance Personnel. Upon arrival, the new Commander of Fort Weather ordered his Sergeant Major to organize the military survivors into squads, platoons, companies and a battalion HQ.

  The surviving senior civilian, Secret Service Agent Leland Ball had functioned as temporary commander until proper military leadership arrived.

  The senior military person was Corporal Steve Woods who had assisted Agent Ball in maintaining order. During this period there had been no desertions. Agent Ball informed Colonel Porter that this was the direct result of Corporal Woods’ excellent leadership. Woods had taken on the role of First Sergeant.

  Following the meeting with Colonel Porter, the civilian personnel were flown back to Fort Benning for reassignment.

  Following a conversation with Major General Merritt, Corporal Woods was called into the Colonel’s Office which had been the former President’s Office Suite. The battalion XO, the Sergeant Major, and the Alpha Company Commander were also present.

  As Corporal Woods entered the Colonel’s Office, he was surprised at the attending brass but managed to hide his emotion and reported directly to the Battalion Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Porter.

  “Sir, Corporal Steven Woods, reporting to the Battalion Commander as directed,” said the Corporal in a sharp staccato voice as he saluted Porter.

  Porter returned the salute and asked Woods to take the empty seat in front of the commander’s desk.

  “Corporal Woods,” said Colonel Porter, “I have called you here for this interview based on the reports of Agent Ball on your role as acting First Sergeant caused by the lack of any senior military personnel following the battle for Mount Weather.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Woods.

  “Upon his recommendation, and via conversations with your peers, I asked Major General Merritt if you might receive a merit-based promotion. I am pleased to report that he has allowed me to make any promotions that I believe are appropriate. Unfortunately, there is a conundrum that I am having difficulty in justifying.” Porter hesitated and looked at Woods.

  “Yes, sir, may I inquire as to that conundrum?” asked Woods.

  Colonel Porter looke
d at Woods and said, “Son, you have done an exemplary job functioning as the First Sergeant since the 5th of April. The problem for me is simply that at the young age of twenty-three I cannot, in my mind, justify promoting you to that exalted rank.

  “After consultations and a consensual agreement with those present, I have decided to promote you to the grade of 2nd Lieutenant. You will take command, under the tutelage of the Platoon Sergeant, of the 1st Platoon of Alpha Company. Your thoughts, LT?”

  Woods was stunned beyond his ability to say much of anything for a few seconds. When he found his voice, he said, “Sir, I don’t quite know what to say, other than perhaps it is kismet of a sort. I finished my Associate Degree through the University of Maryland last semester and had planned on applying for Officer’s Candidate School before all this craziness started. Sir, I don’t know how to thank you, and, well, everyone here for believing in me, so yes, sir, thank you, sir.”

  The 79th Ranger Battalion, posted at Fort Weather stood at attention as the Sergeant Major said, “Attention to orders!”

  Sergeant Major read the promotion order confirming that Corporal Jackson Woods was promoted to the rank of 2nd Lieutenant in the Army of the United States of America. Following this the Colonel and Captain Walsh, the Alpha Company Commander removed the corporal pins from Woods’ uniform and replaced them with the gold butter bar of a 2nd Lieutenant in the Army of the United States.

  Once the ceremony was complete, the Sergeant Major said, “Congratulations, LT Woods, now as soon as we get outside, tradition dictates that you will receive your first salute from me. I will return it, and you will then owe me one silver dollar, payable upon your finding one.”

  Lieutenant Woods said, “Sergeant Major, since my plan was, to one day, get to OCS and receive a commission, I already have that silver dollar in my wallet as a reminder to stretch myself to reach my goal of becoming commissioned. Sergeant Major, I would be honored for you to receive my first salute.” Woods then reached into his wallet and produced an 1861 silver dollar before saying, “It’s yours, just as soon as I get my salute.” The laughter was loud and long. Colonel Porter said, “I think you’ll do, LT, yes, I think you’ll do.”