After The Virus | Book 3 | New World Order Page 3

  “What sort of vote?” Bruce asked.

  “Secret ballot, I’m thinking,” I replied. “That way, there’s no chance anyone will get called out.”

  “What are our choices?” Estelle wanted to know.

  “There are only two options I can see,” I replied. “We can bring them in, or we can execute them.”

  With those words, I picked up my Solo cup of sweet tea and walked out. Silence followed me as everyone basically stared at my back until the door clicked shut. I closed my eyes for a moment and sighed, then headed off for the front doors of the police station.

  Maybe it was too soon to put this decision on the family at large, but I figured they needed to start thinking about the hard things. I trusted my people to present the case as they saw it and to understand my own thoughts about it, but I didn’t want to influence the judgment of the three surviving members of Price’s attack force.

  Two of the men we held were military, soldiers from before the virus who’d just kept on serving, only under the command of a very dangerous man. I wasn’t sure that some of my own feelings, positive or negative, wouldn’t creep in. Of course, they had attacked us, but it had been under orders from their superiors, and they hadn’t known any better.

  But they still attacked Americans and survivors, with intent to kill or capture. We’d responded in kind and given them far more of a chance than they’d given us. If we did this, we’d have to monitor them, and I had an idea or two about that, too.

  If we had to execute them, then I had a plan for that, too.

  I yawned and took a drink of my tea as I stepped into the station’s lobby and looked around. We had the bare minimum of lights going, but the HVAC hummed quietly away, keeping the place comfortable.

  The day outside was partly cloudy, with a slight breeze. Across the parking lot, the big coywolf Goldeneye sat, watching me as I emerged. He seemed to grin, wide pink tongue lolling out of his maw as he panted lightly. His tail thumped once, then he stood, stretched, and disappeared off behind some stalled cars.

  “Hello to you, too,” I said to the empty air. Goldeneye was, in part, one reason I was willing to give Wilcox and his surviving men a chance to prove themselves to us. Maybe it was all just superstitious nonsense, but we’d gone hunting the big coywolf after he’d led attacks on our homestead, and ended up rescuing and caring for him.

  He repaid us by watching over the farm. In fact, he’d even helped us defeat Price’s soldiers.

  I took another sip of my tea and started a slow walk around the outside of the police station. Of course, it had only been a week since the attack, and maybe six months or so since the virus. Time had gotten a little weird. Sometimes it passed quickly, and other times, glacially. We’d seen so few people that ending up in what was effectively war against a group over a hundred miles away held a feeling of bizarre unreality. If I felt the strangeness of it, then I was certain that most of the others did, too.

  Still, I was certain that I was ready to do what needed to be done. Gene, Angie, and Bruce all agreed with me as well and were fully prepared to help out. Estelle, though, held a more defensive position. She wanted us to be ready if we were attacked, but not go seeking trouble. Still, I knew she’d support me no matter what. Jackie, too, didn’t like the idea of going after Price, but she resigned herself to the idea fairly quickly.

  Interestingly enough, Gwen Markovsky, the forensic pathologist, was gung-ho about shutting down the Birmingham group. Then again, she seemed like a protective sort.

  I paused and took another drink. My ice was melting faster than I’d expected, which meant the volatile concoction of sugar and strong, black tea was thinning to something that might resemble drinkable to someone not from the South. I could tolerate it.

  By the time I got back around to the front door, Jackie stood waiting for me in the shade of the entryway. She smiled and walked up. As she grew close, she threw her arms around my neck and planted a warm kiss on my lips.

  “Hmm,” she said when she drew back. “Sugary.”

  “Positively diabetic,” I agreed.

  She laughed and shook her head, then met my gaze with a serious expression. “We’ve come to our decision,” the young woman told me.

  “What did you figure out?” I asked.

  “All things considered,” she said slowly, intentionally drawing out the suspense, “We had good arguments both ways. It was like one of those courtroom dramas.”

  “Who was the judge?” I asked.

  Jackie just grinned.

  “Bruce,” she said at last. “He claimed that since he wasn’t here for the attack, he was the closest thing to impartial, and no one could really argue with him about that.”

  I nodded slowly.

  “Anyway, Estelle laid out the case for and against, we discussed it for a few minutes, then voted,” she continued. “All but two votes were for giving them a chance, so I was sent to find you.”

  “Works for me, I reckon,” I drawled. “Now we just need to figure out the details and see how things go.”

  4

  New world problems required modern solutions. With Penny’s help (She actually did most of the setup work), we rigged up a way to utilize ankle monitors on our new, probationary members. It was one way to keep track of them without having to put an escort on any of the three. The idea was a simple one, given the very limited access we had to the tools we used to take for granted: If the monitor was removed, an alarm would sound, and if the wearer left the property, an alarm would sound.

  Otherwise, we’d just have to keep our eyes on them as much as possible, at least until we could maybe get some kind of local cellular service.

  If I had met Penny before the virus wiped out most of the world, I really would have wondered how and where she learned to reprogram an ankle monitor, but right now, I was just happy to know her. Sam seemed to know his way around tech, too, but it would be awhile before any of us actually trusted those three.

  I leaned on the porch rail in the early morning and gazed out over the yard and animal enclosures. Suzy, one of the homestead dog pack, trotted over, and I bent down to ruffle her fur. She looked up at me with wet brown eyes and panted, grinning and putting up with the attention for a minute before she trotted off to do her rounds. Off in the distance, a coyote yipped.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Jackie said as she drifted quietly out to join me. She held two steaming cups of coffee and offered me one when she drew close.

  “Thanks,” I said, putting off my answer for a moment as I collected my thoughts, then for a little longer while I sipped my coffee. Finally, I said, “We need to deal with Price and company.”

  “I know,” she said after a moment of silence. “When do we leave?”

  I froze, then slowly turned my head to regard her.

  The young woman just smiled up at me. “You said ‘we,’” she explained. “Do you honestly think that I’d stay behind? I was right there when we went after Hunter Blake, you know, and intend to be right there when we deal with, whatever that means, Reverend Price and his cult or whatever.”

  “Who do you think we should ask along?” I wanted to know. It was best just to go along with Jackie, rather than try to dissuade her. She wasn’t the worst person to have around in a tight spot, and ever since our business with the Blake nutcase and the hunt for Wilcox and his men, she’d grown even more determined. The girl had toughened up in the past few months.

  Jackie huffed and leaned on the railing of the porch. “Bruce, Angie, and Gwen, I think. In addition to you and me, of course.”

  “Of course.” I studied her thoughtfully for a long moment. “Why not Estelle?”

  “Because she can keep this place running smoothly,” Jackie answered. “Everyone looks up to her about as much as they look up to you, and no one wants to get on her bad side. That way, we’ve got a solid core going on the expedition, and good backup less than an hour away by helicopter if we need it.”

  “True,” I mused. “Good catch, there.”

  She smiled brightly. “You’ve taught me well.”

  “Once this is done, and we can take a breather,” I said after another long pause. “I still owe you that D&D game.”

  “I know,” she said, then laughed and drifted over to lean against my side. “At least you’ve watched some anime with me.”

  “I do like the Hero one,” I admitted.

  The door out onto the porch suddenly burst open, and Penny, followed by Angie, rushed out.

  “Henry!” the teenager exclaimed. “Radio! CDC’s in trouble.”

  “What the hell?” I said, glancing at Angie.

  She just jerked her head inside. “It’s Finley. He says they’re under attack.”

  I swore and took off for the radio room, a converted den near the back of the main house. Everyone else followed.

  “-there?” asked the radio in Dr. Bob Finley’s voice. He sounded mostly calm, but his tone quavered a little. “Bug Town to Homestead. Where are you?”

  “Right here,” I said as I grabbed the microphone and squeezed the send button. “I copy, Bug Town. What’s the sitch? Over.”

  To Angie, I said, “Go get Gene out of bed and start prepping the Blackhawk.”

  She nodded and took off. Taking a cue, Jackie added, “I’ll get Bruce and start grabbing gear.”

  “Five or six unidentified attackers,” Finley reported. “We sealed the place as soon as we got the alarm from Philip. He didn’t make it inside, but we still hear shooting, so he’s still out there, I think. I hope…”

  “We are on our way,” I said. “Just hold on.”

  “We will,” Bob replied. “Umm, over and out.”

  I got up fast enough that the chair almost flew across the room and focused on Penny. “Keep listening to the radio,” I told her. “Call us on our frequency if anything changes.”

  “Got it,” the teenager nodded, grabbed the chair, and settled in as I hurried off out of the room to gather the other troops.

  We moved as quickly as we could. Jackie and I grabbed guns and ammo, then ran across the road to the open field where Angie and Gene were already going through the pre-flight checklist. Bruce had racked one of the M60s and was manhandling another onto its mount.

  “How much longer?” I asked as I pulled myself up into the back portion of the cabin. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Gene looked back over his shoulder.

  “Nope,” he replied. “Strap your asses in. We’re in the air as soon as Bruce gets done screwing around with that M60.”

  “Hold your horses,” the old survivalist grumbled. “I’m almost done.” With that, he opened the action on the machinegun, fed in a belt of 7.62, and slammed it shut. “Machineguns ready.”

  Angie had the copilot’s seat, so I moved to sit at the gunner position behind her while Bruce settled in behind Gene. Jackie belted herself into the closest seat to me, and we all donned our headsets.

  The low whine of the turboshaft engines filled the air, then built to a low roar as the lifting blades picked up speed. It felt almost painfully slow to me, but soon, we rose into the air and started forward, gaining altitude as the Sikorsky accelerated and turned, heading in a mostly northeastern direction.

  “Think they’ll wait for us?” Gene asked over the cabin comm.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I replied. “We need to get there anyway, so don’t spare the fuel. Worst case, we can refill at the depot.”

  The old pilot laughed.

  “I’m leveling out at a thousand feet and putting the proverbial hammer down,” he told us. “Hold on to your butts.”

  The helicopter’s nose angled down, and it picked up speed. Below us, the countryside sped by in greens and browns. It wasn’t long before we passed over the small town of LaGrange, Georgia. Abandoned houses and shops stretched out below, along with the hulk of this enormous resort hotel they built a couple of years back. It hadn’t been open that long, either. Supposedly, the place was an indoor, family-friendly water park with a wolf theme or something. I’d been curious, but never really had much of a chance to check it out.

  Kind of a shame.

  “What’s the plan?” Bruce asked.

  “I’m thinking a low approach and a flyover with us on the guns. Likely, they’ll hear us and hide, or leave,” I answered.

  “Unless they’ve got something heavy enough to hurt us,” Gene tossed in.

  “Yeah,” Angie grumbled. “That’s encouraging.”

  I glanced over at Jackie and saw she was wide-eyed and pale. “It’s okay,” I mouthed to her and smiled. She nodded in return but didn’t look fully convinced.

  “At this point,” I said. “We shoot first and ask questions later. Almost losing to Wilcox and his people was a big wake-up call. I didn’t want to admit it at first, but I thought we all could work together… that we all could help each other and fix the world…”

  My voice trailed off. I wasn’t sure why I was saying this, any of it, but these were my friends, my family, and I trusted them. Jackie leaned over and reached out to put a warm hand on my shoulder.

  “I really couldn’t understand why people, with so few of us left, would want to hurt or kill other people,” I continued.

  “Humans aren’t the most sensible creatures,” Bruce opined. “I can do without most of them. Present company excluded, of course.”

  “I love you too, Brucey,” Angie teased.

  “Except for you,” the old survivalist said with a grin.

  “Stay on task, people,” Gene admonished. “At this speed, we’re due in less than fifteen minutes.”

  “Right,” I said. The others made various sounds of acknowledgment. “Anyway, at this point, Price and any of his folks bearing arms are subject to extreme prejudice.”

  “I’m with you,” Jackie surprised the rest of us when she spoke up. Usually, she was the voice of kindness and reason. “I wanted to believe the best of people, but…”

  “But it’s hard,” Angie filled in. “Yeah, sweety. Me too.”

  “So, the message I’m hearing,” Bruce said, “is that we’re on a mission.”

  “Right,” I acknowledged. “But first, we ensure the safety of our CDC friends and deal with the attackers if they’re still there. Bob is going to hate it, but we need to move them to the homestead, now.”

  “Agreed,” Angie said firmly. “We can’t guarantee the security of the holdouts anymore.”

  “That’s what Estelle and Gwen have been saying,” Jackie broke in. “Bob doesn’t want to leave, and they think he’s afraid of the new world.”

  “He might be,” Gene mused. “He might be. Hell, I kind of am, myself.”

  “And here I didn’t think you were afraid of anything,” Bruce teased.

  “Heh,” the pilot said. “Okay, Angie. See if you can get anyone from the CDC on the radio. We’re about to hit the city.”

  Atlanta had some tall buildings and such on the outskirts, but nothing like the skyscrapers in the downtown. We flew over the west side and turned a bit more southerly, the terrain below us still going by at a fast clip.

  Angie tapped a few buttons on one of the helicopter’s panels and kept her cabin microphone open as she sent, “Blackhawk One to Bug Town. Can you read me, Bug Town?”

  A reply came almost immediately.

  “This is Bug Town,” Dr. Jeremy Franklin answered. “Where are you, Blackhawk?”

  “Minutes away,” Angie answered. “What’s your sitch? Over.”

  “We think the attackers are inside,” he replied. “We secured the lab, but-”

  The connection cut with no warning. Angie tried for a few minutes more while we circled and descended. If the enemy severed the cable to the rooftop antenna, then that would explain how the connection suddenly cut.

  “I’m doing a flyover,” Gene said. “Get on the guns, you two.”

  Bruce and I scrambled to man the machineguns as the pilot brought us down to just above treetop level and followed the road around the fenced perimeter of the CDC building. The main entry looked like a war zone. Someone had crashed through the gate with a cab-over tractor of some kind, and it burned near the ruins of the little guardhouse that Phil manned. There was no sign of our friend, but a facedown body in black paramilitary BDUs lay not far from the truck’s hulk.

  “No movement out here,” I reported, trying hard not to grit my teeth. Hopefully, Phil was okay. He was a good guy and had stayed behind to ensure the safety of Drs. Finley and Franklin when everyone else from the complex decided to move out to the homestead in Opelika. If he was hurt, or, God forbid, killed, then that was another pound of flesh to exact from Price and his cadre.

  “What’s the plan if they’re inside?” Angie asked.

  “We have to get them out,” I replied. “Gene, set us down on top of the parking deck. Angie will lead me into the main building towards the secure labs. I’ll bet that’s where the doctors are. Then take back off and see if you three can find Phil.”

  “Acknowledged,” Gene replied and banked the chopper towards the deck in question. A few moments later, the landing gear touched down on the concrete and the engine noise ratcheted down a notch.

  I left my position and while Jackie settled in behind the M60 and donned a helmet. It took me under a minute to strap on one of the Improved Outer Tactical Vests we kept loaded in the Blackhawk. Angie already wore one out of habit, I reckoned, something I should start doing. We both donned combat helmets, grabbed our weapons, and exited the helicopter, hauling ass away as the Blackhawk’s rotor blades spun up faster and it lifted into the air.

  Angie had her M32A1 grenade launcher slung over one shoulder, and we both carried M27 Infantry Automatic Rifles. I had a pistol grip Remington 870 12 gauge over my shoulder for backup, in addition to my good old Les Baer .45. Her own sidearm was a Sig Sauer M17, and we both carried what I hoped was an adequate supply of ammunition.

  “Ready?” I asked as we double-timed towards the main operations building, where I expected our friends were holed up.