Fade to Grey (Book 1): Fade to Grey (38 page)

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Authors: Brian Stewart

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BOOK: Fade to Grey (Book 1): Fade to Grey
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Michelle was still full from the meal of soup and ravioli—not
stuffed—just content, but as Thompson continued on she darted into the kitchen
and opened another box of crackers . . . Ritz this time. She brought those out
along with jars of peanut butter and jelly, and soon had a miniature assembly
line going.
Cracker, peanut butter, plate . . . cracker, jelly, plate
. When
the plate was completely covered, she motioned for Andy and Thompson to join her
on the couch, and they quickly devoured the snacks. Michelle refilled her cup
of tea, Andy’s water, and Thompson’s beer hand—there were only two more left in
the six pack. And they were now out of peanut butter, jelly, and crackers.

Thompson stood up and started pacing again. “So we pulled off
the highway in downtown Fort Hammer. A couple of minutes later somebody shouted
for the senior officer in each transport to dismount. That was CC. We could
already hear gunfire and smell smoke. Whatever had happened, we had missed the
beginning of. Then again, it had been happening for a week down in Bismarck, so
it was nothing new. ‘Bout fifteen later, CC hops back in the truck and says
that most of us are going to be continuing on to the border. Some units,
however, were going to be deployed in Fort Hammer to set up a secondary staging
area. Our guard unit was one that got picked to stay. We ended up at the school—your
local volunteer firemen and cops had already started setting it up as a shelter.
I ain’t sure who was coordinating it before we got there, but I think they
should have kept them in charge. That didn’t happen though. There was me and
sixteen other guys from my unit; another squad of guardsman, and about a dozen
regular army guys . . . all under command of that prick Colonel Jordan. A bunch
of civies also. Mostly medical I think. So Colonel Jordan started spouting off,
‘By order of the President of United States . . .’ and all that crap, then he
started ordering everybody around. My unit had security detail around the
school. Our orders were short and simple, nobody gets in, nobody leaves. Any
local that showed up could wait on the athletic field until the school was
prepped. A couple hours later there was probably two . . . maybe three hundred people
waiting on the athletic field—most of them had already been in the school and
safe when we got there, but the bastard kicked them out into the cold. Anyhow,
we didn’t have too many problems, at least until the buses showed up.”

“What buses?” Andy asked.

“I don’t know,” Thompson answered, “about twenty-five or thirty
buses came screaming down the highway from the north, I guess they came from
the border. About half of them stopped right in the middle of the road near the
strip malls, the other half kept going. You can see part of the highway that
runs through town from where the school sits on that little hill, so we had a
pretty good view. So they stopped and we could see some figures moving, but not
much else because the doors to the buses were facing away from us. Then gunfire
started popping. Next thing we see through our binoculars is what looks like a
mob of people streaming around the buses. Just running everywhere . . . it
looked to me like they were trying to get away from the buses. Some of the
buses started pulling out, but we started to see smoke from some other ones. Next
thing I know, two of the buses are burning pretty good, and three more veered
off the road and crashed into some buildings, then they start to burn too. About
that time Captain Walker—regular army guy—comes out and tells us to maintain
security while they get the people on the field inside the school. So anyhow,
it took a few hours but they ended up getting everybody back in the school, and
nobody got shot. Yet. It was getting dark by then and my unit got relieved and
was told to go inside and get some chow. We walked inside and it was like being
back in the tent at the armory—signs everywhere—all the civies wearing
wristbands and hospital gowns. A lot of people pissed off too. Some nut job,
staff weenie was talking over the school’s intercom repeating the same shit I
had heard when I was at the armory . . . ‘Stay calm, processing will take some
time, it’s for your safety and the safety of your family’ . . . blah blah blah.
Oh, and I forgot, Black Hawks had been landing off and on the whole time,
mostly dropping off more people and supplies. Two more Bradleys showed up and
parked outside the front doors just after dark. Seems to me like they were
moving the entire medical . . . I don’t know . . . ‘triage area’ . . . from the
armory up to here. We ate and got a few hours of shut eye. Around midnight we
started to hear the “
thump, thump, thump
” of the 50 cal’s firing, then
the 240’s opened up. We could hear some muffled screams and shouts, and
somebody shouting into a megaphone or PA to ‘Stay back or you will be fired
upon.’ It went on for about twenty minutes. About 1:00 AM, our lieutenant came
in and got us . . . took us to some classroom where we all waited. I don’t know
when . . . maybe forty-five or an hour later, Colonel Jordon shows up with that
medical guy I told you about earlier. Again, it really seemed to me like they
were just trying to pacify us, but they said it was a ‘developing situation’
and that until we had solid evidence to the contrary, anybody with elevated
temperatures would be quarantined, and that anybody who’s eye color changed
would be terminated. Colonel Jordan started spewing all that patriotic crap
about how it was our duty to follow orders, even if those orders resulted in
the death of American citizens, because by following those orders we would be
saving many more.

Captain Walker had come in during this speech, and after the
colonel left, he kind of shook his head. I’m not sure but I thought I saw him mouth
the word ‘Idiot’ after the colonel was gone. So he started giving us our orders.

‘Direct from the colonel’s mouth,’ he said. ‘Objective one—secure
the AO. At 0600, both of the guard units will reposition to the center of town,
securing a forward position that will enable continued contact with civilian
personnel. Civilians showing no sign of infection will be escorted to the medical
processing area. Suspected cases of infection will be detained in a separate
holding environment to be set up by guard units upon arrival. Objective two—decontamination
of occupied areas within city limits. Concurrent to objective one, guard units
will conduct coordinated search efforts with the emphasis on maintaining safety
standards pursuant to . . . .’ The captain stopped reading, looked around the
room at us and said, ‘Off the record, the colonel is an asshole and doesn’t
know shit about not getting his men killed. On the record, the colonel is a
giant, ragged, flaming asshole and doesn’t know shit about not getting his men
killed.’ We just sat there, stunned and silent but laughing our asses off
inside. I think most of us had already picked up on the fact that Colonel
Jordan was a douche bag. Captain Walker leans out into the hallway and looks
both ways, probably checking to make sure the colonel wasn’t eavesdropping,
then shuts the door and says, ‘All squad leaders will stay behind after this
meeting is over. In the meantime men, suffice it to say that your orders from
Colonel Jordan are going to be . . . ahem . . . “modified to encompass
unexpected terrain features.” I will not let you go on a suicide mission. I’ll
brief your lieutenants on the specifics—they’ll pass it on to you. Make no
mistake people, this shit is for real. Your primary mission will be to secure
civilian lives. You will not do so at the cost of your own. I’m not a doctor,
and I promise you that I’m breaking about twenty national security acts just by
telling you this, but gentlemen, if you get bit, in all likelihood you will
become infected. There is currently no cure, no vaccine. Nothing. So watch your
ass out there, and watch each other’s back at all times. Squad leaders stay seated,
the rest of you . . . dismissed.’”

Andy and Michelle watched as Thompson moved to the window,
slid the blinds aside and watched the storm for a while. He turned away from
the window and walked toward the restroom. “Be right back,” he said.

“Where do you suppose Eric is right now?” Michelle asked
Andy.

“That boy ain’t right in the head.” Andy laughed as he
continued, “If I didn’t love him so much, and personally think that you two
would make a wonderful pair, I’d probably warn you off of having anything to do
with him. But like I said, he’s a strange bird. I’d say there’s about a fifty-fifty
chance that he’s either holed up in an old bear den, or standing out in this
winter monsoon and fishing. And if he’s in the bear den, there’s a fifty-fifty chance
that the bear is still in there.”

Michelle chuckled along with Andy, mostly on autopilot though
. . . Her mind was still reeling from Andy’s admission about her and Eric making
a wonderful pair.

Andy continued, “To answer your question however, I’d have to
guess that he’s up in the area where Doc’s granddaughter is supposed to be.”

Thompson came back from the bathroom, veered into the kitchen
and retrieved the last two beers from the porch. He drained one with what could
only be classified as a “frat house chug,” and positioned the other for
immediate access. “Where was I?” he asked.

“Your squad had just left the meeting.”

“Yeah. That’s right. So my squad goes back to the classroom
we had commandeered to try and get some more rest. About an hour later CC comes
in and lays it out for us. We were going to hitch a ride in the Bradleys down
to the center of town, check out the situation from inside the armor before we
deployed. Once there we would set up a forward ‘safe zone’ to concentrate
civilian evacuees. The Bradleys would pull back a short way to avoid attracting
unwanted attention, but at the same time they’d be able to give us support fire
if we needed it. I said to the lieutenant, ‘Damn, LT, “unwanted attention,” . .
. what kind of bullshit is that?’ And he said that the M2s were supposed to
stay on-site as per the colonel’s orders, but that tomorrow morning Captain
Walker was going to release them for a round of ‘perimeter security sweeps.’
Anyhow, the short of it is that Captain Walker wanted them close enough to give
us fire support and evac potential, but couldn’t have them sitting in the
middle of town where the colonel might see them.

“This Captain Walker seems like a standup guy,” Andy said.

Thompson nodded. “Yeah, he was.”

“Was?” both Andy and Michelle echoed simultaneously.

“Yeah, I’m getting to that. So anyhow, we tried to get some
more shuteye, but about 4:00 AM we started hearing a bunch of screaming and
yelling out in the hall. CC opened the door and we filed out behind him in case
he got into some shit. It was like we walked right into a meeting of the brass.
Colonel Jordan, Captain Walker, another captain I had never met, and a few
lieutenants, all regular army. And then there were two guys in suits, they had
those little . . . um . . . I don’t know what you call them. I guess like a
pocket protector ID. Like an official name tag that hung from the front pocket
of the suits they wore. Big bold letters across the top of the ID that said,
“Department of Homeland Security.” So that group was standing in front of
another group, civies. About twenty to thirty I guess. From what I could gather
the civilians were pissed off about the way they were being treated after they
had cleared medical, and a bunch of other stuff too. I recognized some of them.
There were two volunteer firemen, the mayor or councilman of Fort Hammer, some
guy I think was a local cop, and a few others, business owners mostly. Anyhow,
like I said they were all pissed off about the colonel pushing everybody around.
Then the colonel turns to Walker and orders him to arrest the civilians, all of
them. The captain refused. So Colonel Jordan started calling Captain Walker a
chicken shit, insubordinate coward, and that’s when Capitan Walker turns to the
colonel and just lays into him. It was beautiful. It was a flat out sucker
punch followed by several boots, but it was beautiful. At least until he got
dragged off of him. So they had Captain Walker held with his face against the
wall, and one of the suits turns to Colonel Jordan and says something like, ‘On
my authority, I find that Captain Walker is guilty of conduct unbecoming an
officer, grossed insubordination and treason. The penalty for these offenses is
death, to be carried out now.’”

Thompson stopped, took another swallow from his beer and said,
“And then that cold-hearted bastard drew a gun from a shoulder holster, walked
up and put a bullet in the back of the captain’s head. The prick doesn’t even
waste another second, he just turns to the group of civies, his face still flecked
with bits of brain, blood and skull and points his gun at them. ‘Is there any
question about who’s in charge here?’ he says. Nobody answered . . . they were
just all standing there with their mouths open . . . shocked I guess. Then the
suit says it again, real loud. ‘IS THERE ANY QUESTION ABOUT WHO’S IN CHARGE
HERE?’  I felt CC tense up, but he managed to keep it in check. The cop and the
mayor weren’t so lucky. The mayor started saying ‘You can’t do that . . .’ and
at the same time the cop lunged forward and knocked the gun out of the suit’s
hand before he got jumped by the two lieutenants and the other captain. They
put a pretty good beating to him. The mayor too. So, I hear Colonel Jordan say,
‘Take them to the cage.’ And they hauled them off down the hallway. The colonel
looks over like he’s noticing us for the first time and says, ‘0600 comes early
men, better get some more rack time.’ And then his whole little entourage heads
back towards their command room, dragging the body of Captain Walker with them."

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