“Sounds good, sir. Thirty mikes.” Ballantine left with a smile on his face.
*
Forty-five minutes later, Hastings and Ballantine walked back into the barracks, followed by several soldiers carrying the group’s weapons.
“Thanks, guys.” Ballantine pointed at a spot next to an empty bunk. “Just stack them right over there. We’ll take them from here.”
The others in the room had turned and looked as the door opened. When the troops saw their weapons, their faces lit up, shit-eating grins all around.
“God damn, we get our weapons back?” Stilley crowed. “Man, I ain’t never been so happy to see an M4! Christmas comes early!” He reached for one of the assault rifles, but Tharinger grabbed him by the shoulder.
“You can’t have that weapon,” Tharinger said. “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid. Ho, ho, ho.”
Stilley looked perplexed, a usual condition for him. “Huh?”
“You never watched A Christmas Story?”
“What’s that?”
Tharinger looked at Ballantine, who looked at Hastings.
Hastings sighed and told Stilley, “Forget it. Take one of the weapons. Just don’t shoot anyone’s eye out.”
“Naw, I wouldn’t do that—”
“Daddy! Daddy!” Ballantine’s boys came running.
The big NCO almost ran right over Guerra to get to his kids.
“Hey, easy there, big man!” Guerra said, stepping out of the way.
Ballantine spread his arms, laughing as Josh and Curtis leaped into his embrace with happy squeals.
Hastings watched this, his heart turning into ice.
Smiling, Guerra watched the happy reunion, then he looked over at Hastings. When the Hispanic staff sergeant’s eyes met Hastings’s, his smile evaporated immediately. Hastings turned away from him for a moment, embarrassed. What did Guerra see in his face? Resentment that Ballantine’s family was alive, while his was dead? Outrage? Hatred, even?
Get on with the job, man. Hastings put on a neutral expression and turned back to the men. “Bring it in, guys. I have some news on our situation and what we need to get started on.” He waved everyone over to the front of the barracks.
Still carrying Josh and Curtis, Ballantine paused long enough to give Kay a quick kiss, then they both joined the others in gathering around the table.
Everyone’s attention shifted to the far end of the barracks when Kenny suddenly started screaming. The boy was frantically trying to stuff a jelly-covered cracker in his mouth with one hand while Diana was trying to get him up by the other.
“Guess the kid finally wants to eat his cracker,” Guerra said.
Diana released him, and Kenny sank back onto the bunk. He was still vocalizing, but no longer screaming. Diana looked over at the group, shrugged, and started to walk away. Kenny began screaming again, louder. Diana’s expression hardened, and she covered her ears with her hands. For a moment, Hastings thought she was going to lose it. Instead, she turned around and went back to resume her seat beside Kenny. The boy wound down immediately and began munching on the cracker.
“I guess we’ll listen to what you have to say from over here,” Diana said. Her voice sounded as taut as a tripwire.
Hastings cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, here’s the deal. Sergeant Ballantine and I just got done meeting and briefing Colonel Jarmusch, the base commander, and Colonel Victor, the ground force commander. We’ve been absorbed into the force here and given the mission to help reinforce the base’s overall security against the reekers. Up until now, they haven’t seen a really large group of reekers like we encountered in Manhattan, but we here”—Hastings motioned to the people standing around him—“know that’s not going to last forever. So we need to help them reinforce the critical sections and buildings on this base to withstand an attack from a Manhattan-sized assault. Sergeant Ballantine and I have developed several courses of action that both the colonels have blessed, and we’ve been given the go-ahead to start making it happen. Sergeant Ballantine will get with each of you to assign tasks that we need to get done in the coming days.
“The five W’s are this: we will be conducting a ground and air movement to designated areas outside of the base in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours to recover shipping containers and or semitrailers, along with securing a railroad engine. My intent is to use the shipping containers and trailers to block the high-speed avenues of approach where they cross the rivers and terrain features that can be used to channelize the reekers and force them off into the wooded countryside. This is an attempt to disperse and slow them down so they don’t show up in one massive wave. We’ll do this by creating these barriers in depth, extending outwards three hundred sixty degrees from the base to the surrounding towns. Most will be coming from the direction of New York, north of here, as well as potentially larger groups from the Philadelphia area and other cities here in Pennsylvania. Questions?”
“Sir, did you say something about a railroad engine?” Reader asked. “You mean like a, what, locomotive?”
“Yes, exactly. Why, you know something about them?”
“No, sir. Nothing other than what I got from watching Thomas and Friends with my kid brother.”
“Reader…” Ballantine warned.
Reader held up his hands. “Just answering the question.”
Hastings got back into it. “We’re going to try to secure a train engine to help move more containers from the outlying areas to the base here. It’ll also serve as a mode of transportation that can help move large amounts of people and equipment away from Indiantown Gap if things go sideways. We need to have that option open in case we need it.
“There are going to be a lot of moving parts to this operation, along with several smaller operations that’ll be going on at the same time. I need everyone to move with a purpose and prepare as much as possible. The timeline may move up if we get intel that the reekers are going to be inbound sooner than we anticipated. Now, Colonel Jarmusch has pulled out all stops for us, and the people on the base know to help us out and give us what we need. If you run into any issues, let me or Sergeant Ballantine know immediately. We don’t have time to spare dick dancing around with people. That’s the short version. Are there any questions?”
“What about us?” Kay asked. “What do you want us to do?”
“All the civilians can remain here,” Hastings replied. “If there is anything identified that you can assist the rest of us with, we’ll let you know. For now, I just need you to take care of your family and each other. We’re going to be living here together for a while, so if you want to set up areas in here for your family, feel free to arrange it as you see fit. If you need anything, just let one of us know, and we’ll take care of it. Stay alert if you go outside, even if it’s somewhere on base. We’re free to move around, but this place is spread out, and you need to be armed at all times. We’ve got a few strip maps of the base so give it a look.”
Hastings turned back to the men. “The rest of you, see Sergeant Ballantine for specific instructions. That’s all I’ve got. Sergeant Ballantine, they’re all yours.”
“Thank you, sir. Bring it in tighter, guys,” Ballantine said. When his boys moved in closer, Ballantine put his hands on his hips and looked down at them. “Joshua. Curtis. Not you. Go see if Diana needs help with Kenny.”
“Aw, Dad!” Curtis said.
The troops looked at each other, grinning.
“He does take the fun out of a lot of stuff,” Guerra said to the boys.
“All right, guys,” Kay said. “You heard your father. Let him and Captain Hastings talk over what they need to do. Come with me, now.”
The two boys reluctantly allowed her to pull them away from the group, but Hastings could see the kids wanted to stay with the men. They were still young, but they were eager to learn what it took to be a man. Hastings found himself hoping they wouldn’t need to learn too much, too soon.
Once K
ay had the boys rounded up, Ballantine got to it. “You heard the captain. We’ve got a lot of shit to do in a short time, and here’s what we need to do first. We need to go over to the motor pool and pick up our vehicles. Sergeant Guerra, once all vehicles are accounted for, I need them all PMCSed. Check all the fluids, belts, the whole nine yards. If you need anything, hit up the motor pool sergeant. Top off the gas, and make sure the Jerry cans are all full, too. There’s a shopette on Fisher Avenue that has gas pumps, and there’s also a POL point on base for the military vehicles. If anyone questions you, just tell them you’re from TF Manhattan.
“Once you knock that out, head over to the ammo point and make sure all the crew-served weapons have a double load. We want to go heavy on the ammo. Stop by the chow hall and pick up as many cases of MREs as you think you’ll need. Now, Guerra, you make sure you figure for enough meals in each vehicle for everyone. Fill all the water cans, too. Once you knock all that out, bring the vehicles back here and start on maintenance of the crew served weapons, and then your individual weapons. Make sure you don’t forget to top off on individual ammo. Every man should have a basic load plus two extra basic loads in your ruck along with chow and water. Let me know if you have any issues getting anything I’ve talked about. If you need the captain or me for anything, we’ll either be in the TOC or back here. Anyone have any questions?” Ballantine looked around. “Then if not, that’s all I have. Let’s get hot on this.”
*
After the military, Senator Henry Cornell pursued a political career at the urging of friends and family. He and his wife, Melissa, had gone through some rough times together. Life in the military was no cakewalk, and to their mutual chagrin, serving the public was hardly any easier. But the Cornells had weathered the storm, and they’d done it by sticking together.
Cornell had been surprised when he was selected to take the position of Chairman of the Senate Arms Service Committee. He threw his name into the hat when he was approached—via back channels, of course—about any interest he might have in the position, but he never thought he’d get the job. Cornell attributed a great deal of his success to having his wife by his side over the years. They made a good team, and they were still friends, despite the stresses involved in the rough-and-tumble world of national politics.
Cornell shuddered when he thought about what might have happened had he not asked her to accompany him on his trip to DC when the whole zombie thing was just starting to unfold.
They had discussed his career path and what he wanted to do on several occasions, but the subject of him becoming the next president of the United States had never been been part of their talks. Yet in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania on a small National Guard base, he realized that he very well may be the leader of the nation through pure attrition. As far as Cornell knew, at no time in history had a set of circumstances conspired to make such a thing possible. For sure, presidents had been assassinated or forced to resign, enacting succession. But never before had the near entirety of the executive, legislative, and judicial branches of the federal government been gutted. Chances were, he told himself, there was still someone alive who had a direct line on the presidency, and the military at Indiantown Gap just didn’t know about the person. Not that it mattered much in the long run. The way things were going, Cornell wasn’t sure there would be much left to preside over if things continued to get worse.
Since coming to Fort Indiantown Gap, the military had been trying to establish communication with any elements of the government that might still be alive and functioning. Initially, they had contact with a few other government offices in DC that had managed to survive the initial fall of the city. But it wasn’t long before those survivors dropped off the map, their positions either overrun or abandoned. Hourly broadcasts on all the emergency government frequencies yielded no further results. As far as the leadership at Fort Indiantown Gap was concerned, the installation was alone.
In absence of evidence to the contrary, Henry Cornell had no choice but to assume the mantle of leadership. The nation had to continue, and one of the linchpins to its resurrection would be a functioning government. And Cornell had been designated the president pro tempore of the Senate—in absence of contact with the president and vice president, as well as the speaker of the house, Cornell was within his rights to assume the role of commander in chief.
So at a meeting between Cornell, Colonels Victor, Jarmusch, and a few select members of their staff, Cornell laid it out for them. “Gentlemen, we find ourselves in an unprecedented time and situation. I want to go on the record as saying that it is with reluctance that I make this next statement—I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings in the future if events change and there is ever a question about what transpired here.
“As everyone in this room knows, we’ve been trying to reestablish communication with surviving members of the government for several weeks now. I think it’s more than just likely that the Continuation of Government plan would have been put into action if any surviving members of the federal government had been able to make it to their designated shelters in time. As we still haven’t heard from anyone in the government, I think we must assume that there are no survivors. And by default, as president pro tempore of the Senate, I believe I am the current president of the United States. I will assume this position until someone in the government whose authority supersedes mine is discovered. At which time, I will relinquish the office of the presidency to said person.
“I now ask for your concurrence with, and acknowledgement of, this statement and my assuming the office of the president of the United States.”
The room was deathly quiet as a palpable sense of shock settled over the assemblage. The few staff members present looked at the senior officers. Victor and Jarmusch did a good job at covering their surprise, but Cornell could see the astonishment lurking behind their poker faces.
Colonel Victor cleared his throat and looked at Jarmusch. “What do you say, Alex? I can’t find fault with anything the senator has said.”
Jarmusch dropped all pretense and sagged back in his chair. “Dave… Senator… I’m at a complete loss for words at the moment. The ramifications here are just, well… huge. I have some questions that I’m not sure there are answers for. But I will say, I think we can all agree the last thing anyone in this room wants is to be accused of sedition against the US government.”
“Absolutely, Colonel,” Cornell said. “That’s something we should work to avoid.”
Jarmusch continued, “But given the circumstances, I’m not sure having the JAG look into this would provide a picture that’s any clearer. As you said, sir, what’s happening to the nation right now is absolutely unprecedented. If the rest of the world couldn’t stand against it, then the United States is definitely in a bad spot.”
“So are you both in agreement with what I’ve proposed?” Cornell asked.
Victor and Jarmusch exchanged glances. Cornell could see the reluctance on Jarmusch’s face, but Victor seemed to be more comfortable with it. While Cornell doubted Victor welcomed the notion, he had the impression the infantry officer was thinking ahead. Cornell had known both types of officer during his time in the Army. Those like Jarmusch gathered strength from the strict discipline demanded by the institution’s substantial regulations. Those like Victor took a more facile approach, understanding that victory never came without risk, sometimes in overwhelming doses.
Victor shrugged. “Look at it this way, Alex, if we’re wrong, we probably won’t be around to suffer the consequences, anyway. And someone needs to assume leadership of… well, of whatever’s left.”
“But what if POTUS is still alive?” Jarmusch asked. “Or the VP or the speaker? We don’t know that they aren’t.”
“But what if they aren’t?” Victor shot back. “We’ve been broadcasting for weeks, and we haven’t established reliable contact with anyone. No major combatant commands, no individuals who were even in hunting distance of the National
Command Authority. Hell, not even a member of the House of Representatives, and they’re supposed to be tougher than cockroaches.” Victor seemed to remember Cornell’s station, and he looked at the senator quickly. “Ah, no offense, sir. That was a poor choice of words on my part.”
Cornell snorted. “Well, I was elected to the Senate, not the House, so we’re good.” He looked over at Jarmusch. “Colonel? You’ve made many valid points. I’d like to hear what else you have to say.”
Jarmusch sighed wearily. He rubbed his face then put his elbows on the table as he leaned forward. “Senator, I don’t know about this. I’m uncomfortable with it, even though I think I agree with the general idea that it’s necessary for someone, someone from the civilian leadership establishment, to start pulling things together. But at the end of the day, you were elected to the senate by the people of Pennsylvania, not to the presidency through either popular or electoral college votes. I’m a bit worried about getting behind this. I’m not worried for myself. We’ve got more pressing matters that concern me more in that area. But I am concerned about the health of the nation as a whole.”
Cornell nodded. “I understand. What do you see as a viable alternative?”
Jarmusch considered that question for a long moment. “I’m afraid I don’t have one, sir.”
Victor turned to the man seated to his right, a short, swarthy lieutenant colonel named Herbert. “XO? Opinion?”
Herbert looked surprised to have been recognized. He glanced around the table. None of the other officers would meet his gaze, and Cornell could tell that the rest of them were eager to avoid attracting any attention, except for one—Command Sergeant Major Oratious Parker, a tall, broad-shouldered black man from central Texas with a completely bald head and piercing dark eyes that took in everything. Cornell didn’t know Parker well. The only thing the two men shared was their race. Cornell was the son of a modestly prominent dentist in Pittsburgh, while he believed Parker had been a farm boy somewhere south of Dallas, north of Austin, and east of Odessa. But of all the men in the room, Cornell figured Parker carried the biggest punch. While the officers ran the operations, Parker took care of the troops.
These Dead Lands: Immolation Page 18
