The Reaper Plague (22 page)

Only we won’t be us anymore.

She keyed her radio and quietly reported what
she had found. Muzik wanted her to come back and prepare for the
attempt to rescue their lost troops. She replied. “Colonel, I have
an idea, if I can establish communication with these people. Give
me a couple of hours.”

Muzik sighed wearily, "Okay, but you watch
yourself and get back here as soon as you can."

An hour later she was crouching inside
another pipe. Bobby and a warrior she had dubbed Ug had led her
through dense woods and storm drains near the Rappahannock River to
a point inside the Fredericksburg perimeter. Easing forward, she
got a view of an open field of new rich soil. A tractor dragged
some kind of attachment across the dirt, and hundreds of bedraggled
people worked with hand tools and wheelbarrows, pulling out rocks,
stumps and bushes. More than half of them were black or Hispanic.
All of the guards were white.

Many of the workers were her people. She
could see Grusky and LeBrun among them, but try as she might she
could not pick out Rick. And something else was odd…it took her a
minute to figure it out, but then she realized.

No women.

No females at all, though there were boys as
young as six or seven it seemed, and older men as well. She didn’t
like to think of what that might mean.

“
Okay,” she addressed her
Twosie guides. “I’ve got to sneak in close to talk to one of my
people. Wait for me here, all right?” They both nodded, Bobby’s
eyes solemn, Ug’s wary.

She slipped a piece of camouflage
stretch-netting across her face and head, slung her weapon on her
back so it would stay clean, and crawled forward along the brush
lining the new field.

Men with guns drifted here and there around
the edges of the working party, but not as many as she would have
expected. A concerted breakout attempt would probably free almost
everyone. But where would they go? The whole rump town was
surrounded by walls, berms, abatis, barbed wire, gun jeeps and
armored vehicles – and the river on one long side. Many would die
if they made a daylight breakout.

The field sloped slightly downward to the
river, and there were only a few guards with rifles nearby. They
probably figured any of the prisoners that tried to swim the river
could be easily shot by riflemen. Her eyes traced a way along the
edge of the beach.
That’s my opportunity. If I have to I can
hold my breath long enough to escape under the water.

Jill wormed her way through the bushes until
she reached the river, then crawled along its sunken bank, barely
out of sight. Reaching the point across from a large oak tree she
had set as a landmark, she cautiously raised her camouflaged
head.

“
Grusky,” she called in a
low voice. “Don’t look around, just work your way over here.” She
watched through the blades of long grass as the bored-looking guard
waved a buzzing fly away.

Sergeant Grusky glanced up with a slight jerk
at her voice, but she could see him forcibly relax and begin
meandering in her direction. Soon they were near enough to talk in
low tones.

“
Glad to see you, Master
Sergeant.”

“
Can’t say the same about
your situation, Staff. Where are the women?”

Grusky grimaced. “They separated them out
when they brought us back. Talked about doing women’s work, but
they also took the prettiest handful off separate. Said they were
for the Professor’s brothel. Johnson got himself killed trying to
prevent them from taking his girlfriend.”

“
Not good. You have to tell
everyone we’re going to stage a rescue tonight, sometime after one
a.m. No more pointless resistance, everyone needs to stay alive
until the breakout attempt. Take this.” She tossed her PW5 pistol
into the grass within his reach when the guard’s back was turned.
“Tell everyone that when the shooting starts they need to make a
break for it and meet right here by the bank. That oak tree is your
marker. We have local guides and a way through their lines. Also,
everyone needs to pass the Eden Plague to everyone they can,
friendly or not. Bite, scratch, bleed on them, whatever you can do
without getting killed. A lot of the enemy must have been hit with
Needleshock and they are already Edens. That’s going to undermine
their power structure and cause confusion. Some might even help
you.”

Grusky nodded and had barely concealed the
pistol in his pocket when the guard came over and yelled at him to
get back to work. Jill shrank back under the bank, burying her face
in the fetid mud beneath the grass overhang. A moment later she
heard the sound of water falling, a stream of urine that arched
over her and struck the tiny beach at water’s edge. As she hid, she
cursed herself for forgetting to ask about Rick. She waited for a
full five minutes before carefully prying herself out of her
hidey-hole and slipping away.

-35-

Special Envoy Tyler could feel the Vargas’
eyes on him. He just couldn’t figure out why. Nothing he did here
would have a negative impact on the man’s career, and he hadn’t
offended him as far as he knew. In fact, he could easily get the
man promoted, or his choice of assignment – or both.

He turned around to look at Vargas and
noticed how his hands gripped the holds on the top of the MRAP. Saw
the snake behind the man’s eyes, and saw the bloody sweat on his
forehead where it looked like he’d raked his fingernails across
it.

He realized just where he’d seen that look
before.

Forcing himself to smile neutrally, Tyler
shifted his weight and abruptly rolled headfirst through the hatch
into the interior of the moving armored truck. He barked his knees
and shins painfully on the way down and caught himself on his hands
as he hit the floor. He collapsed his body and struggled to a
sitting position on an interior seat.

The move was so unexpected that Vargas simply
sat there stunned on top of the MRAP. He had no idea what prompted
such gymnastics from the Envoy, but it didn’t matter. Now that
Tyler was inside again, no one would see as he eliminated the
maricon
.

Inside, Tyler looked around for something to
use as a weapon. He himself was unarmed in keeping with his status
as a diplomat. The driver, the RTO and Vargas each had a gun. Tyler
knew the madness percolating inside Vargas, the insanity that
cropped up in a small but growing percentage of nanocommandos,
would eventually push him over the edge as the tiny machines gained
a foothold in his brain.

Tyler could see only one sensible option, and
he was rapidly running out of time. He looked casually at the RTO,
Furth. If he could surprise her and take her submachine gun, he had
a chance. Glancing up through the hatch to make sure Vargas wasn’t
watching, Tyler leaned forward onto his feet behind the seated
woman, and then slugged her as hard as he could in the jaw from
behind.

She slumped over the radio, and the driver
didn’t notice a thing as he concentrated on his task. Tyler quickly
grabbed her stubby automatic weapon, racked the bolt back and
turned to point it out the open hatch at Vargas – to see the
business end of Vargas’ own weapon staring him in the face.

Tyler didn’t hesitate. He trusted in his
healing ability and in any case the die had been cast. It was kill
or be killed, and his Eden conscience did not inhibit him as he
watched the sanity leave Vargas’ eyes. He pulled his trigger and
rocketed to his feet, trying to get the lip of the hatch between
his own head and Vargas’s gun.

Both weapons belched bullets and Tyler felt
the hot wet smack of the slugs stitch him across his ribs and down
his abdomen and leg. He barely had time to feel the pain and shock
before he went under.

***

Tyler came to with the muzzle of a gun in his
face, and he thought,
I’ve lost
. Then he saw the driver’s
frightened face behind it and hope returned. Without moving he took
stock of himself and decided he would live, if the driver let
him.

“
Son, I ain’t gonna move,
and I been shot up pretty bad, so maybe you could take your finger
off the trigger of that weapon?”

The young troop swallowed, moved back out of
reach and repositioned his grip. “What the hell happened!” he
asked, shaky.

“
Hey, you in there, what
the hell is going on?” The voice came from outside the MRAP and
Tyler realized that of course they were stopped, since the driver
wasn’t driving. That meant the Richmonders had stopped too, and now
they wanted answers.

“
Son,” Tyler went on,
“Major Vargas tried to kill me. I had to shoot him. I’m the
President’s representative, and I’m in charge of this mission. Now
you need to open up this vehicle and let the Richmond people in.
And don’t get yourself shot!” he added as the man reached for the
armored door’s handle.

It took half an hour to get it all sorted
out, time Tyler desperately needed to heal from the seven or eight
bullet holes in his body.
The ones that didn’t go through will
work their way out eventually.
He’d convinced the driver to
give him an MRE to eat, which helped considerably.

Once on his feet he’d checked Vargas. Two
holes though his skull relieved Tyler’s concern, and he had them
wrap the man’s body up to be taken with them. He’d explained the
situation by telling them that Vargas had always been high-strung
and he’d snapped and turned his weapon on his superior. The
Richmonders bought it, more or less, but they disarmed the MRAP
crew completely this time, and put three guards inside for the rest
of the trip into the city.

They hadn’t mentioned his remarkable recovery
from the bullet wounds, by which Tyler deduced Edens were nothing
new to them. Looking closer, he realized that several of the
escorts probably were already Edens. Several were Onesies as well,
which brought to mind the question of why they hadn’t used the Eden
Plague to cure the DP1.

Probably saw how DP1 and DP2 sickened and
killed some Edens, and figured the reverse would be true. But
actually, giving the Eden Plague to Onesies would cure them, and
with Twosies it should at least fix their bodies. Knowledge is
power, it has value…perhaps as a lever, perhaps as a gift.

He eyed the men guarding him for a moment,
then closed his eyes and planned his negotiating strategy.

***

They’d rustled up a decent off-the-rack suit
from an abandoned clothing store, and now Tyler strode in to meet
Governor Allaine with something like confidence. The lord of
Richmond was tall, graying, and smooth-faced.
Uninfected, it
seems
. The Envoy held out his hand and introduced himself to
Allaine with a firm handshake. What came back was all politician,
and Tyler rejoiced.

Rejoiced because it was the usual
bureaucratic politics he saw in the man’s gaze and stance – how to
turn this meeting to his advantage, make himself look good, hold on
to his office, power and authority – through legitimate means. This
first fifteen seconds told Tyler all he needed to know: he’d made
the right decision to kill Vargas, and now it all just came down to
horse-trading.

But first…
“Governor, I have a
time-critical favor to ask of you before we discuss anything. On
the way here we received word via radio that the Civil Affairs
battalion at Fredericksburg was being heavily attacked. Then we
lost contact with them, and I fear the worst. I am sure the Federal
government, and the President himself, would be very grateful and
look favorably on a sincere attempt to help them.”

“
Attacked by the
Professor’s people?” The Governor’s gaze was hawklike,
careful.

“
I don’t know. Who is this
Professor?”

“
A man out of his time. He
fancies himself a reincarnation of Nathan Bedford Forrest trying to
resurrect the old South, or maybe create some twisted vision of a
fascist future. Or both. In any case, he’s a madman, and he
controls Fredericksburg with an iron fist. If your people got too
close and he felt threatened, he would attack them.”

“
We landed the battalion at
Fort AP Hill airfield. They were supposed to move northward to a
position a few miles outside of the occupied part of
Fredericksburg. We came south to talk with you. Then as I said, we
heard on the radio they got hit by armored vehicles and infantry.
Then nothing.”

The Governor shook his head. “Then the
Professor hit them for sure. I can see you want me to do something
about it.”

Tyler nodded, stood up and rubbed his hands
together with nervous tension. “Yes, sir, I do. And I think you
need to. As an experienced military man, I can tell you this: the
MPs in the battalion would have fought hard. They might have been
beaten but this Professor would have paid a heavy price. And there
are some very unusual individuals attached to the battalion that
will make this guy’s life hell for as long as they can – special
operators with some very specific skills.”

Allaine looked skeptical. “Experienced
military man? No offense, but you don’t look old enough to make
that claim.”

Tyler noticed that Allaine had left himself
an out.
That’s all right, I can be gracious
. He spoke
mildly, respectfully. “Governor, I’m sixty-five years old. It’s
just the Eden Plague lying to you with my face. The President
retired me at four-star rank so that I could become his Special
Envoy. I’ve been commanding troops for pert’ near forty years.”
So I think I know what the hell I’m talking about,
he
deliberately didn’t add.

“
Unh,” the Governor
grunted. “I suspected something like that. You’re that Travis
Tyler? All right, what would you do in my place?”