by Brian Parker
He gurgled incoherently and she kicked again, this time missing the softer tissue and connecting with the bones of his cheek. The impact sent a jarring shudder up her leg that caused her stomach to seize in pain and brought her back to herself as she fell backward onto the air mattress.
The taste of copper was heavy in her mouth and her head throbbed in pain. She held something… She immediately flung the offensive thing toward the opening of her tent. That’s when she noticed the form at her feet. The body of a male lay there, twitching slightly, but the movement seemed involuntary and sluggish. Outside, the sounds shouting, cries of pain, and the intermittent reports of gunfire carried across the camp and she remembered the riot.
She brought her hand up feel her forehead and saw blood covering her hand.
“What?”
She still couldn’t remember what had happened. There was the riot, and then she hid behind the backpacks. She twisted slightly, feeling sore all over. The packs were where she remembered them being, so that wasn’t any help.
Sidney felt gingerly along the skin of her forehead, stopping when they encountered a warm, wet fluid. She pushed gently and was rewarded with a sharp stab of pain.
A soft, gurgling exhalation of air brought her eyes to the man on the floor and everything came rushing back to her. The threats…the fight…the death of her attacker. Had she done that to him?
She pushed herself up tentatively. Her body was still a wreck from whatever had happened. It took a moment to gain her feet. When she did, she limped over to the body. His face was a purple, bloody mess. One eye was—
“Oh God,” she moaned, remembering the squishy thing she’d been holding when her mind retook control. Sidney glanced at the small lump near the tent flap. She’d done that to him.
“No,” she said aloud. “I stopped him from doing that to me.”
Back to the body, she saw that it was indeed the same man who’d tried to attack her all those months ago. His face was burned in her memory and easily recognizable, even through the blood and discoloration. He’d threatened her baby and she’d obviously lost her mind. Maybe I am crazy like everyone says, she thought.
“Sidney!”
She snapped her head up and looked through the tent flap. A soldier ran toward her tent. She carried a rifle and three or four men kept pace behind her.
“Sidney! It’s Caitlyn. Sidney!”
She hobbled forward to the edge of the tent and stuck a bloody hand outside. “In here,” she croaked, her throat dry and parched.
Gravel skittered against the tent’s fabric as Caitlyn came to a stop. “Oh God, Sidney. What happened?” she asked, looking inside at the carnage.
“He attacked. It…it was self-defense!” Sidney stammered, not knowing the intent of the soldiers behind Caitlyn.
Her friend stepped through the flap and surveyed the scene for a moment. “The riot’s just about over,” Caitlyn stated. “I was worried sick about you.”
Sidney smiled and said, “I’m a—what was it you called me? A hard-nosed bitch?”
“Yeah,” she replied and wrapped Sidney in a hug. The woman’s tactical vest and rifle were painful against her chest, but she didn’t care this time. It felt incredibly good to have physical contact with someone and she held on tightly.
After a few moments, one of the men outside cleared his throat, bringing the two of them back to the present. They broke off their embrace awkwardly and leaned away from one another.
“I was worried about you,” Caitlyn began. “We got word that the riot started because a refugee was seen returning to the camp with a soldier carrying bags and boxes of food yesterday. I immediately thought of you since you had those two boxes and the bag of clothes.”
Sidney nodded and pointed at the body. “He said the same thing. They thought I got food from the Army and wasn’t sharing with anyone else.”
Caitlyn nodded and glanced back at her soldiers outside. “Okay. Pack up your things. You’re coming with me.”
Sidney stepped back. “What?”
“No, you’re not under arrest,” Caitlyn clarified. “It’s too dangerous here for you now. You have a target on your back and this will just keep happening until they kill you—or your baby.”
That last part made Sidney realize that Caitlyn was right. She was already an outcast in the camp. If people thought she was getting preferential treatment… “How many people were hurt in the riot?”
“Too early to tell,” Caitlyn replied. “There are a lot of bodies on the ground. A lot.” She stared off to the side for a moment before continuing. “What do we need to do to get you ready to go?”
It didn’t take the soldiers long to pack up her meager belongings. The hardest part was getting Rick James into the cat carrier, after that, it was over and done with in ten minutes. Sidney had debated just leaving the tent, but decided to take it, just in case. Everything went into her old Home Depot shopping cart and two of the men manhandled it over the gravel toward the camp perimeter.
“I hope you throw that bitch over the walls and let the infected eat her!” a small voice yelled. Sidney turned her head to find the source of the offensive comment. It was the little boy who’d called her the crazy cat lady the day before.
She started to reply, but Caitlyn pushed her onward. A crowd began to form along the gravel pathway. Many of the people had blood on their clothing. They yelled obscenities and gestured wildly in her direction. Several of them shouted their approval that the soldiers had arrested the thief.
“Better to let them think we’re taking you into custody,” Caitlyn muttered gruffly where only she could hear. “They’ll never see you again after this. Hopefully, the entire thing will blow over and people will calm down.”
By the time they’d covered the distance to where the riot began, Sidney doubted that the people of Camp Three would forget or let the aftermath of their actions blow over. She doubted it because of the bodies.
There were hundreds of them, maybe even thousands. They’d been packed in tightly around the trucks when the shooting started from both sides. Caught in the middle, they’d been unable to go anywhere and died in place, most of them from trampling. Sidney counted at least eight of the big Stryker vehicles that must have been called in for support. In addition to all the soldiers each vehicle carried, they also bristled with weapons that could be fired from inside. These people had died horribly, because of a misunderstanding.
No. The remaining refugees in Camp Three would never forget. She didn’t know about the other camps inside the walls, but this one would be a problem from now on.
Sidney glanced furtively at Caitlyn’s pretty face, covered with dust and specks of blood. Where is she taking me? she wondered. Any place is better than this hellhole.
8
* * *
MIDLAND-ODESSA, TEXAS
SEPTEMBER 15TH
Jake sighed contentedly. He’d eaten an entire can of baked beans. It was more food at one time than he’d had in months. The rationing had started almost immediately after the disaster was declared and since then, soldiers got two reduced-sized meals a day—which was still more than the average citizen. Over time, the meals had steadily gotten leaner and the soups more watered down.
“That hit the spot,” he said, his eyes rolling to the side where Carmen watched him closely.
“I’m glad you liked it,” she replied. “I know we don’t have a lot to offer, but anything is better than nothing, right?”
“Yeah,” he agreed and then changed his mind. “Wait, there’s tons of stuff here.”
“I mean variety,” she amended. “We don’t have a lot of variety. If we could have figured out a way to save the meat, then I could have whipped you up a proper meal.”
He sat up quickly. “Are you kidding me?” he asked. “You don’t need to apologize for not having power. The fact that you survived this long on your own is amazing.”
“I’m ready to go,” she replied. “I’ve been here too long with ju
st my kids. I need adult interaction.”
Jake eyed the Latina. She’d been wearing a t-shirt and shorts when they first arrived. Since then, she’d steadily shed layers of clothing. Now she wore a bikini top from the store’s clothing section without a shirt and cutoff jeans. She said something about the rising temperatures inside, but he wasn’t stupid. They both knew the game she was playing. Carmen was working her curves in an effort to save her kids’ lives.
For their part, the two children ran around the store, going from soldier to soldier with curiosity. They didn’t ask for anything, like the refugee children at Fort Bliss did, they just seemed curious about other people. In awe that there were still normal humans alive.
“You’ve been here the whole time, alone?” he asked.
“Yes—well, there was another family here at first. They had the same idea as me, but the radio kept saying that there was a big safe zone set up in El Paso and they figured they could make it, so they packed up a car load of stuff and left.”
“You know if they made it?”
She shrugged and shook her head. “No idea. So… Are your soldiers done loading those trailers yet? I’m real anxious to leave.”
Jake set the empty can down on the floor and leaned forward. “Yeah. We’re just about done. I think we’ll be ready to head outside and begin the sling load soon.”
The operation had taken longer than he’d thought it would. They’d planned for the possibility that it could take two full days to load the three trailers, but Jake hadn’t thought that it would actually take that long. It had, though, because they had to unload two of them first. One had been full of heavy patio furniture. It was spring when the infection hit, so that made sense that the store would be full of that stuff, but the other truck made him scratch his head.
The truck was three-quarters full of all sorts of winter equipment, from snow blowers and heaters, to sleds and skiing equipment. He guessed that they’d been loading the truck to take it all back to some giant distribution centers somewhere when everything went to shit. And now, he’d inherited the problem. The furniture was heavy, but for the most part it was in boxes, ready to take home and assemble. The other stuff, especially the giant snow blowers, were bulky and hard to move without the use of a forklift. It had taken a team of fifteen soldiers just to disassemble the jigsaw puzzle-like packing job and empty the trailer.
“Sir,” Jake’s radio crackled to life on his vest.
He pulled it off and pressed the button. “This is Red One, over.”
“Hey, sir. It’s Turner. We’re starting to get a lot of curious infected in the area. The guys are making too much noise loading those trucks. The snipers are doing a hell of a job, but we need to speed this up before the sling load operation becomes too dangerous.”
Jake waited for his platoon sergeant to finish his transmission with the proper radio procedures, but after a couple of seconds, he decided that the old NCO wasn’t going to, so he answered. “Alright. I’ll talk to the guys, but I was thinking about it. When we send the teams outside, I want that sixth helicopter to fly as low as they can and lead the infected away again. Can you go talk to the pilots and let them know my idea? Over.”
“Roger, sir.”
“Fun time’s over, Carmen,” Jake said, pushing up from the camp chair he was sitting on.
She hopped up quickly and came over to him, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re not gonna break your promise, are you, Jake? You’ll take us with you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, gently pushing her hand away before one of his men saw the gesture. “You don’t need to worry about that. We’ll take you with us to Fort Bliss. From there, they’ll process you and you can decide between citizen or service.”
She leaned in, more insistently than before. “Do I have to choose between the two? Before all of this, I was an ICU nurse, maybe I could work in the hospital or whatever is there. Or, can’t we just stay with you?”
“Ha! The LT’s picked up his own dependa,” a voice called out from nearby, eliciting a chorus of laughs from the others.
“I share a room with two other lieutenants, Carmen. There’s no room for you with me. I don’t know about the medical center. Maybe.”
“I heard about those refugee camps on the radio before it went dead,” she replied. “They aren’t a good place for a single woman to be, Jake. Can’t you find any other option? I mean, you’re an officer. All of these men listen to you…”
“If you don’t get processed through the correct way, then you don’t eat,” he said. “And it’s not like there’s extra housing sitting around waiting for more refugees to arrive. We’re practically bursting at the seams as it is.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts. They pressed together and upward, making Jake wonder if the result of the movement was accidental or carefully practiced. “Then put my food back,” she demanded.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I was here first. Everything in the store is mine. Put it back and get out of here.”
“We can’t do that, Carmen. There are millions of refugees in Fort Bliss. Everything that’s here will only last a day, maybe two if they’re really creative, but it’s something. This food has to go back.”
“And it will last me and my kids for the rest of our lives,” she replied coolly. “If you can’t get me a place for my kids, not in the refugee camp, then I want all of my food put back and for you to leave before you bring all of the psychos from the city here.”
“Ma’am, I—” He stopped. His authority as an officer extended to this situation because the president had declared martial law long ago. If he wanted to, he could simply take it from her and either leave her here or force her to go to the refugee camp; the former wasn’t really an option, though. They’d cleaned out everything edible that they could find. Leaving her here with no food was a death sentence. Could he find someplace for her to stay? He supposed he could, but that set a dangerous precedence as he was sure that every warehouse they’d raid in the future would likely have people in them as well.
“What’s it going to be, Jake? Are you taking me with you and not forcing me to join the Army, and not forcing me to go into the refugee tent city, or are you emptying those trucks and leaving my home?”
“I could just shoot you,” Jake replied. “I could say that you were infected. Nobody would ever check.”
“You wouldn’t do that, though,” she asserted, wide eyed.
“You don’t know me very well, lady. I’ve killed hundreds of people. My men have killed thousands upon thousands. Don’t threaten me.”
He turned to storm off, but she grabbed his arm and whirled him around. “Don’t you walk away from me, asshole. I’m talking to you.”
He glared down at her. She was five-four, maybe five-five, and he was six-two. He towered over her, but she stood her ground, staring back at him, unafraid. He could easily end things, but… Jake threw up his hands. “Goddamn it. Fine. I’ll find a way to get you a home on base, but you still have to process through the center or you won’t get food.”
“Don’t try to double-cross me, Jake Murphy.”
“I won’t.”
“If you do, I will find you and I’ll make you wish you’d never even thought about doing that. Do you hear me?”
“Yeah, geez. I’ll get you a place.” He glanced over his shoulder to where all the men stood staring at their exchange. “Now, excuse me. I have to get these trucks loaded so we can get out of here.”
“I mean it, Jake. I’m Puerto Rican,” she called after him as he walked away. “I’ll cut you if you screw me or my kids over.”
He shook his head. What the hell had he just agreed to?
The rotor wash from the Chinook as it lifted off was enough to press Jake’s face into the building’s roof. It was go time. Now or never to test their concept of food resupply.
He’d ordered as many men as could fit, plus Carmen and her children, onto the first helicopter. It’d be
the decoy bird to draw the infected away from the sling load operation. The remainder of the soldiers would pull security during the operation, loading into each helicopter before it went airborne to have a trailer hooked up to it. The sling load team, and the final security elements, would have to be hoisted up inside the last helicopter while they were in flight. It was that, or he could trust the crazy-assed pilot who assured him that he could hover near enough to the roof—with the trailer slung below—for the sling load team to jump onto the back ramp. He wasn’t crazy about either option.
“You ready, sir?” Sergeant Turner yelled into his ear over the sound of the retreating helicopter.
“Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”
Jake stood and watched the first Chinook fly eastward for a few blocks before it stopped, then lowered slowly toward the ground. The gunners began to fire almost immediately and he ducked his head, running toward the hole in the roof.
He sat and swung his legs over the edge before turning onto his stomach. “You got it, sir,” a soldier called from below. “Just reach with your left foot… Got it!”
His foot touched the top of the ladder and he gently eased his weight onto the step. When it held, he risked a glance past his body. The outline of the ladder stretched into the gloom below. It only took a few seconds for him to descend the ladder.
Then he was running with the other soldier toward the loading docks in back. When he got there, four more soldiers waited. They already wore heavy gloves and the oversized dust goggles that they’d been issued back at Bliss.
“Ready, sir?” an NCO from Mirman’s platoon asked.
Jake eyed the 101st Airborne patch on his shoulder. “You sure you got this, Sergeant Orroro?”
“Done it hundreds of times, sir. I just had a shitty assignment manager who made me leave Fort Campbell last year.”
