The Dark Trilogy (78 page)

They had tried to leave Cincinnati, but the airport had been closed to nonmilitary transport. Buses and train lines were shut down as well. Highways and most main roads became and remained jammed or blockaded by the military. So Al and Jennifer left their modest apartment in Gallatin and made their way to the closest shelter.

George was a naturally friendly person, and when he smiled at the young couple, they latched onto him immediately. They took comfort in his assurances that this would all blow over and they would all be back to their homes, leading normal lives, in no time.

A day later, Jason showed up. He was terrified and alone, a twelve year old boy who had lost his mother. He had been put in with the other orphans, and there were a shockingly high number of them. George didn’t pay him any attention at first, but Jennifer befriended him. She’d spent time teaching daycare and volunteered to tend to the children in the shelter. Perhaps it was her gentle nature, or the fact that she was quite attractive—whatever it was, Jason took to her immediately. Within a single day, she had “adopted” him, convincing the soldiers to allow his cot to be moved next to hers and Al’s. Al didn’t mind at all and welcomed the boy into their little clique.

It wasn’t long after meeting them that George had his last phone conversation with Helen. She begged him to come home as soon as possible, and he promised her over and over that he would. She talked about the attacks in Dayton, but assured him that Wildwood was still safe, for the most part. She would hole up in their house with the girls until he found a way to leave the shelter. He told her to put boards up over the windows and doors and that everything would be fine until he returned home. If they stayed out of sight, no one would bother them.

***

That was six weeks ago.

After that, the cellular network broke down completely. That last call would be burned into George’s mind forever and was part of the reason why he was obsessed with getting home, no matter how impossible that goal might be. But until he figured out what to do with the young boy for whom he was responsible, his journey would have to wait. George had made a promise to Jennifer and to God above, and he intended to keep it. Taking Jason out into the hell the world had become was not a part of that promise.

George dragged himself up the stairs and reached the second floor and the narrow hallway that led to the rooms in which he and Jason spent most of their time these days. The first floor was less closed in and had all their food and water, but the second floor felt safer. There was a much smaller chance of being discovered up here, in this little hideaway. If the time came when they were forced to evacuate the building, the second floor was not the best place to be, since there was only one set of stairs, but knowing that the ghouls outside couldn’t break through their meager barricades and be on top of them right away helped them to fall asleep at night.

***

The shelter turned into a madhouse a week after George arrived. He guessed that it was getting almost as bad inside as it was outside, with the tension increasing tenfold every day. At first, when there was plenty of room and assurances that everything would be okay, the atmosphere in the gymnasium felt almost festive. There were jokes and laughter and even sing-alongs. But after a few days, everyone was realizing they were trapped … and might be for a very long time. That was when many of the refugees came unglued.

Various factions and even several gangs cropped up. Younger men banded together for the purpose of intimidating the other residents. Whether for money or cheap thrills, it served as a distraction for them. The soldiers clamped down at first, responding to complaints and separating the troublemakers. But life was wearing on them as much as on the people they were protecting, and after a while, they left the refugees primarily to their own devices. As long as there wasn’t any obvious violence or disturbance, the Guardsmen didn’t interfere.

George became the protector over his little clan. He used his size to intimidate predators, who typically sought out less-daunting prey. The key was looking them in the eye and not backing off. A few well-placed and meaningful looks at the leaders of the gangs was enough to convince them to stay away from him and his “family.”

They were confined to the gym and the cafeteria in the high school for the most part. The National Guard had taken over the classrooms for their living quarters. Refugees had been given limited access to the library at first, but the privilege was revoked when more and more fights broke out there. George knew things had moved into the realm of complete insanity when soldiers locked everyone in the gym one night rather than try to break up a battle between two newly formed rival gangs. He and Al followed the lead of several other people and flipped over their cots to create a makeshift barricade behind which to hide. It worked fairly well and kept George and his small troop out of the way of the fists and knives being thrown around. Weapons were been confiscated as everyone entered the shelter, but it was no surprise that smaller pocketknives and even a few hunting knives had gotten through. Those without weapons improvised with wooden posts broken off cots and even several shivs. That made it clear to George that the shelter had become a prison in virtually every way possible.

Thirty minutes after the brawl broke out, tear gas was tossed into the gym, and almost everyone lost their desire to fight. No official count was made after the soldiers moved in to deal with those who were still interested in fighting, but at least a handful of people died in the chaos, and a much larger number were injured. The bodies were hauled out, and the soldiers thrust first aid kits into the hands of anyone still standing, forcing them to tend to the injured.

Perceived troublemakers were rounded up and dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the shelter. George wasn’t sure what happened to them, but as he lay awake in the middle of that night, he heard muffled shots being fired from automatic weapons outside the high school. After that, previously loud complaints turned into whispered grumblings, and most of the refugees steered clear of the soldiers patrolling the gym.

That was when George and his newfound friends decided it was time to plan their escape.

George and Jason, Part 2

The memories from those early days continued to trickle into George’s mind as he entered the room he used as a bedroom. He plopped down on the small blanket and thin pillow he had acquired from the nurse’s station downstairs. His room was situated next to the room to which Jason had laid claim, which had once been a dusty storage area. The entire second floor was mostly storage, with the main area below housing the classrooms, gym, and church. He and Jason had blocked off the doors to the church from the part of the building in which they stayed when they first arrived. It would have been impossible to protect the large open nave, with its massive windows and glass doors. The irony was not lost on George. He had found Jesus and even fled to a house of God, but had to steer clear of the church to avoid an agonizing death.

***

After the riot, George, Al, Jennifer, and Jason decided to bide their time for at least one more day. The rumors about what was happening outside had faded away as fewer newcomers were funneled into the high school. Most of the refugees still trickling in were being processed at the elementary school, but one of the last bits of gossip they heard was that there weren’t any more people seeking shelter. There was no one left alive out there.

Soldiers patrolled the gym, moving between isolated groups with their automatic weapons unslung and ready for anyone who might cause them trouble. Another day went by, and any new rumors passed along by the refugees about what was going on outside were mostly just unintelligible garbage George dismissed out of hand. Soldiers who were willing to talk insisted there were more refugees still funneling in across the street. All he knew for sure was that more troops were showing up at the school. He saw them talking outside the gym and could hear more vehicles out in the parking lot. Soldiers stationed with the huddled masses inside were more agitated than usual.

It was enough to convince George that their little group’s time had come. Despite the eradication of the troublesome gang members, it would not be long before someone else tried to start another revolt. Everyone was tired, angry, and afraid. They were jammed into a claustrophobic environment, and it appeared as if George wasn’t the only one planning something. He wondered if, when it all went down, the soldiers would even bother with tear gas or just start firing their weapons into the crowd.

After a long, sleepless night, it came to George. Jason was small enough that he could slip out when they shuffled into the cafeteria to eat breakfast. There had been no head counts in several days. The guards had slacked off ever since the real troublemakers had been eliminated. They were paranoid and concerned that everyone would try to rush their positions at the main exits, or try to steal their weapons, but didn’t appear worried that someone might sneak deeper into the building. When George approached the twelve year old, Jason was more than willing to go on an “adventure” to help them all out. He was practically champing at the bit to make a break for one of the doors that led to unused classrooms in the high school.

At breakfast, Jason displayed no fear as he stood up and boldly walked across the room away from their table. No one, including the soldiers standing guard and serving the food, took notice of the boy. Just as George thought, the other refugees were too wrapped up in their own woes to care about some random kid. The soldiers were just as distracted. With someone different approaching them to argue or complain about something every few minutes, they were too busy to pay attention to a boy slinking around the crowded space. George, for all his confidence that he was doing the right thing, could barely watch as Jason crossed the linoleum floor toward one of the sets of doors. When Al squeezed his arm and smiled to let him know that Jason had made it, George felt weak.

No alarms were raised as Jason slipped through the doors, nor were there any hints that the soldiers suspected anything.

When the time came to leave the cafeteria, the three remaining members of the group shuffled out with all the rest of the entrapped citizens and returned to their cots, biding their time until lunch. If Jason were caught in the few hours between the two meals, they hoped he would get no more than a scolding. Even as high strung as the guards were, unless he snuck up on one and yelled “Boo,” he would probably be safe. If one of the adults had gone and had been caught … it was hard to imagine it would have gone well for that unfortunate individual. George remembered the fit Jennifer had thrown about Jason taking on such a responsibility and how she couldn’t sit still as they waited, wondering if he were okay.

At lunch, when Jason returned to them unnoticed, it took all the trio had to not stand up and cheer as he slipped in beside them at their table. They sat, grinning and patting him on the back, but waited until they were back in the relative privacy of their small section of the gym to ask him what he had seen. He told them about the corridors down which he was willing to venture. He had found several empty classrooms and, more importantly, a hallway leading to an exit on the opposite side of the building that didn’t appear to be guarded. He was able to open the door; no alarm had sounded, and it was only locked from the outside. There were no guards posted outside at the back of the building. Now all they needed was a distraction so they could make their move.

George winced at the memory of their excitement and shared euphoria. They had been so optimistic! It was hard to imagine how he had rooted for someone to attack the guards or to cause another riot, just so the four of them could steal away in the ensuing chaos. There was nothing redeeming about such thoughts, though surely God would forgive his weakness in that moment. The four of them gathered up what few possessions they still had and the small amount of food they were able to sneak out of the cafeteria for their anticipated journey.

The rest of the day passed without event, except for more and more soldiers running in and out of the gymnasium, hour after hour. Most of the newer residents of the makeshift dormitory did not notice, but George and his team studied the soldiers, hoping that something would come up that would keep them occupied so the foursome could make an unannounced exit.

With looks of exasperation and nervousness on most of the soldiers’ faces, George guessed it wouldn’t take long. He could sense that things were getting ready to boil over outside.

They settled in for the night, and the lights were turned off. George told Al to be ready to wake Jennifer and Jason at a moment’s notice. After a few uneventful hours, neither of the men could keep his eyes open, so when the fire alarm went off in the middle of the night, it woke them both. People leaped up all around them, several with terrified screams. After a couple of minutes of complete confusion, a young lieutenant came into the gym with a bullhorn and called for everyone’s attention. After the alarm was shut off and he had spent the better part of another minute asking for silence, everyone settled down.

The lieutenant appeared poised, and George guessed he was a veteran of either Afghanistan or Iraq who was called back stateside when the shit hit the fan. The soldier’s voice was confident and forceful. He announced that they were going to have a fire drill, strictly as a precautionary measure. No one had any reason to be alarmed, and they would all be back in their beds in a few minutes if everyone cooperated. He directed them to form two single-file lines so they could move over to the cafeteria. The lieutenant’s body language did not contradict his calm, calculated tone—there were no nervous twitches and no cracks in his veneer. But when George looked closer, the soldier’s eyes told him everything he needed to know. He wondered how many others sensed it. Ripples of panic ran throughout the crowd but nothing substantial. The lieutenant was good, but George could see the truth he was trying to hide.