Push Back: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (The Disruption Series Book 2) (23 page)

Vern Gibson shook his head. “Dang if it don’t look different every time I come. I was just here ten days back, and there’s a lot of changes. And a whole lot more people.”

Wright nodded. “That’s the point of this meeting. We’re hoping to put some programs in place that will be beneficial to everyone.”

His guests nodded noncommittally, and they walked in silence to the headquarters building. Wright led them into the former break room, now known as ‘Conference Room A,’ and nodded toward a pot of coffee on the sideboard.

“Fresh pot. I started it when we saw y’all on the river.”

The three men grinned in unison. “Now that’s what I call hospitality,” Gibson said. “I don’t suppose you might have any of that coffee we could take home, do you?”

Wright grinned back. “Just a full forty-foot container. Ask and you shall receive.”

Vern Gibson laughed. “Well, this meeting is gettin’ off to a good start. I can’t be bought, but I can be rented. Especially if there’s coffee involved.”

They were still chuckling when the others arrived, with warm greetings and handshakes all around before they settled around the conference table, each with a steaming mug. Colonel Hunnicutt wasted no time fleshing out the proposed concept, with Wright, Butler, and Luke Kinsey adding details as appropriate. The three visitors listened silently but attentively. When Hunnicutt finished, the men from the river looked back and forth at each other, each waiting for the other to speak. Finally Levi broke the silence.

“How many of these fortified towns you figure again?”

“We were thinking twenty,” Wright said. “One every mile or so up the river, alternating sides where we could. But that’s the ideal, in practice we’ll place them wherever the local folks will go along with it, as long as they’re reasonably spread out.”

“And you want to build them all at once?” asked Vern Gibson, his doubts obvious.

“Yes, or at least as many as we can. Besides the advantages the colonel outlined, our census here is increasing rapidly.” He sighed. “So to be honest, we also have a lot of desperate people that need new homes.”

No one responded, and the room lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Finally Hunnicutt spoke. “I’d hoped for a bit more enthusiastic response.”

“It’s not that we don’t like the concept, Colonel, but I think it’s the ‘desperate people’ part that’s giving us all a little trouble,” said Anthony McCoy. “I’m sure we all like the part about towns and fortified positions and militias and all that. But you’re basically talkin’ about dumping strangers among us just because they’re desperate and need a place to go. We’re sympathetic, but I think we can all see the potential for this turning out to be a real bad idea.”

Hunnicutt nodded. “Point taken. But if you like the basic concept, we’re open to suggestions. How would you improve it? If you’ll each give us your comments and criticisms, maybe we can still get to yes. Would you like to start, Anthony?”

Anthony nodded. “Okay, for starters, I sure wouldn’t try building ’em all at once. I’d say start with one or two, maybe halfway out from here and the one furthest away. Say twenty miles out. It’ll be a lot easier to get folks on the river enthusiastic about two towns than twenty. Just make those two towns bigger than you planned, then stick to the security stations everybody’s already agreed to in between. If the towns turn out to be workable, and everybody likes them, we can always build more by expanding the security stations. But if not, we haven’t wasted a whole lot of effort for nothing.”

Hunnicutt nodded, encouraged by Anthony’s use of ‘we.’

“And another thing, we’ll need assurances y’all don’t use the river towns as dumping grounds for misfits. There are gonna be a lot of ‘recruits’ and you’re not going to be dead right on every one of them. Some of them are going to fool you, and when you end up with fools like that Singletary, we don’t want ’em on the river. We got enough homegrown fools without importing any,” Anthony said.

Everyone laughed, and Hunnicutt nodded. “Agreed.”

The laughter died, and Vern Gibson spoke. “We’re all laughing now, but this is serious, Colonel. It’s not just us three you gotta convince. I don’t think the majority of folks up and down the river will buy it unless they have some say-so about their new neighbors. That’s especially true if you’re plannin’ on asking them to donate the land for these towns.” Gibson cocked his head and fixed Hunnicutt with a knowing look. “Which I suppose you are.”

Hunnicutt nodded and was about to speak when Wright interrupted. “If I may, sir? I have an idea about that.”

Hunnicutt made a go-ahead gesture.

“What if,” Wright asked, “we set up a vetting committee? It could include mostly folks from the river farms, with maybe one or two advisers from Fort Box they trusted, who’ve had an opportunity to observe the potential recruits more closely and offer opinions. The committee could interview and approve anyone who applied to move to the river.”

Vern Gibson nodded slowly, as did Levi and Anthony. “Might work,” Gibson said.

Hunnicutt beamed. “Excellent! We’re making progress. How about you, Levi? Do you have any suggestions or concerns?”

Levi laughed. “So many, I don’t know where to start. But I think the plan is workable. However, I think we all know no matter what we decide here or what we plan, it’s all going to fall to pieces at some point. We need to be prepared to be true to the CONCEPT while maintaining some flexibility.”

The others nodded, and Levi continued. “But like Vern said, folks on the river have to buy into the concept.”

Hunnicutt nodded and turned back to Gibson. “How do you like our chances, best guess?”

Gibson shrugged. “I’m thinkin’ maybe sixty percent will go along after they think about it a bit, another twenty-five or thirty percent can be convinced, and ten percent will be dead set against it, just because they’re dead set against everything.”

“I’ll take those odds. Can we ask you gentlemen to take the lead in discussing this with your neighbors?” Hunnicutt asked.

Vern Gibson sighed. “I’m not what you’d call real eager, but I guess I can do that. Assuming these other two jokers agree. I’m sure not doing it by myself.”

Levi and Anthony nodded, and Hunnicutt’s face was creased by a relieved smile. “Thank you, gentlemen. We really appreciate it.”

His smile faded. “But now that we’ve settled that, I’m afraid I have less welcome news. It may not impact you immediately, but I thought you should know about it.” He nodded at Luke. “Major Kinsey?”

“Yes, sir,” Luke said, and turned toward their visitors. “Yesterday, we did a reconnaissance of the Military Ocean Terminal at Sunny Point and also the Brunswick Nuclear Station. The FEMA Special Reaction Force is occupying both facilities. We managed to take prisoners, and what we’ve learned from them is concerning.”

“Ahh … isn’t taking prisoners kind of like poking the bear?” Levi asked. “Maybe we ought to just leave those folks alone. Live and let live.”

“Based on what we know, they don’t intend to live and let live,” Luke said. “They plan to build both of those facilities up as major SRF bases, and it’s unlikely they will tolerate an armed presence nearby they don’t control. In fact, under interrogation, the prisoners revealed they believe an attack against us is imminent.”

“They’re going to attack Fort Box?” Anthony asked.

Luke shook his head. “Not them, but someone. They had no hard intel, just rumors in their ranks. So the reliability is suspect, but we can’t discount it. Rumors are a lot more accurate than people realize.”

“If not them, then who?” Anthony asked. “The regular Army?”

Beside Luke, Hunnicutt shook his head. “They seem to think it would be a surprise attack, and I can’t see the regular military attacking us without at least engaging us first and demanding our surrender. We’re no match for the regular military, and they know it. Besides, they just don’t operate like that, especially against fellow Americans. They would talk first and only attack as a last resort. Nonetheless, we’re taking the threat seriously. We’ve been on increased alert since we heard about it.”

Levi nodded. “I noticed extra guards.”

“We’ve doubled up security everywhere,” Hunnicutt said. “But it’s stretching us thin. Which is another thing we wanted to talk to you about.”

Levi looked confused. “But what can WE do …” He trailed off as he understood.

“Major Kinsey’s force managed to capture almost a hundred M4s and a substantial amount of ammunition. We now have rifles without riflemen. We don’t have time to vet and recruit people out of the refugee population. It’s one thing to recruit a forklift driver or a cook, but we’d have to trust a recruit completely before we turned them loose inside Fort Box with a weapon. There just isn’t time.”

“You want volunteers from the river,” Gibson said.

“Only until the threat passes,” Luke said. “I’m sure Donny and Richard …”

Vern Gibson visibly bristled at the mention of his sons, then calmed and nodded. “Donny thinks highly of you, Major. I reckon if he knew you needed help, he’d be here in a heartbeat. Richard too, for that matter.” He smiled ruefully. “Thing is, you ain’t the one who’s got to explain it to their mama.”

“We know we’re asking a lot, Mr. Gibson,” Hunnicutt said. “And we wouldn’t ask at all if we weren’t desperate. But if Fort Box falls, I think it’s only a matter of time before the FEMA thugs start moving upriver.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Gibson said. “There’s some who think we’re too little to mess with. Out of sight, out of mind. Personally, I’m not of that school of thought, but I can’t speak for my neighbors.” He shook his head. “It’s one thing to ask folks to buy off on settin’ up these towns, but it’s another to ask ’em to maybe stop a bullet.”

“Agreed,” Hunnicutt said. “We can only ask.”

The room fell silent again as the river men mulled the request.

Luke broke it. “How many veterans do you estimate are on the river, Mr. Gibson?”

Gibson shrugged. “Countin’ old Vietnam-era dinosaurs like me, more than a hundred I’d say, but I can’t rightly be sure.” He sighed. “I can’t speak for anybody else, but I’ll tell my boys and they can make their own decisions. And if they decide to come, I’m sure they’d be willing to go up and down the river and ask other folks.”

“That’s more than generous, Mr. Gibson. Thank you,” Hunnicutt said.

“I’m in,” said Levi quietly.

“Me too,” said Anthony.

“Hell, Anthony,” Gibson said. “What war are you a veteran of, the Spanish-American?” He turned to Hunnicutt. “If you’re takin’ old coots like Anthony here, I guess I’ll sign up too.”

“He’s not taking Anthony,” Levi said, glaring at his father-in-law. “One of us has to stay home and protect the family.”

Hunnicutt held up his hand. “Gentlemen, I appreciate your willingness to help us, but Levi is right. We don’t want to leave any family defenseless, so please make that clear to any of your neighbors who might be willing to help us.”

***

After more discussion, the three civilians took their leave with promises to consult their neighbors on the ‘town plan,’ as it had come to be known, and the much more pressing issue of volunteers. Hunnicutt and Luke Kinsey saw them off at the waterfront, sending them on their way with five pounds of coffee apiece.

“Think we’ll get any volunteers?” Hunnicutt asked.

“I think a few at least,” Luke said. “Whether it will be enough is anyone’s guess.”

Hunnicutt nodded. “How’s your exclusion zone plan coming?”

“We have all the signs posted and about half the barriers in place. And Wright started random patrols two days ago. They rousted a few refugee families that were squatting inside the zone and drove them back to the country club camp.” Luke sighed. “But your prediction was accurate. It wasn’t popular, and it’s increasing resentment in the camp. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea.”

Hunnicutt sighed. “Resentment was inevitable anyway, if not about this, then about something else. It may as well be over something that actually enhances security.”

United Blood Nations HQ

(Formerly New Hanover County

Department of Social Services)

1650 Greenfield Street

Wilmington, North Carolina

Day 30, 11:35 a.m.

“So how many they roust all together?” asked Kwintell Banks.

“’Bout twenty, mostly from over around Newkirk Avenue,” Darren Mosley replied. “But yesterday it was Wellington, and they puttin’ those Exclusion Zone signs all along Seventeenth Street. Look like that the closest they want anybody to get to their fort.”

“Who they rousting, black or white?”

Mosley shook his head. “Don’t seem to matter. You squattin’ in that exclusion zone, they gonna roust you.”

Banks stroked his chin, considering this latest development and how he might use it to advantage. “How dat goin’ down in the camp? What our spies there say?”

“All the ’fugees be seriously pissed, no matter the color. Thing is, about half the squatters they brought back to the camp was never there in the first place. And a lot of them had gathered a lot of stuff in the crib they was squatting in, and the soldiers only let them bring what they could carry. So those be double pissed,” Mosley said.

Banks nodded, a plan forming in his mind. “When the next soldier patrol?”

Mosley shook his head. “They ain’t regular now. They mix it up.”

“All right then. We just gotta be ready for them whenever they come. I want you to have our guys in the camp get them ’fugees all riled up. Spread a rumor the soldiers run over a kid that was just asking for food or something like that. The worst the better. Get a crowd gathered around the camp entrance, so whenever the soldiers get there, they gotta run through it. Then block the road so they CAN’T get through, and start throwing rocks and bottles. The rest of the crowd will pitch in, guaranteed. You follow me so far?”

Mosley nodded, and Banks continued. “The soldiers likely won’t shoot, at least right away, so the crowd will get bolder. When they good and excited, just have our guys slip away. If we lucky, at some point the soldiers will panic and shoot at the ’fugees or at least over their heads.”