Gnash (42 page)

The feds came through almost immediately for the survivors that had cleared the city through the Shelbyville refugee center.  They’d each been provided with enough money to last for years if they were smart and since they hadn’t decided where they wanted to settle yet, neither Grayson nor Jamie had gotten a job.  Their short term plan was to stay with Grayson’s parents until the baby was born in March, then begin looking for a new career and move to wherever that took them.  Grayson assumed that he still had his Department of the Army civilian job, but he had little interest in returning to that lifestyle. 

Yesterday, he’d been thinking about the men and women who survived Indianapolis and all his friends in the military that he’d been to war with over the years.  He wondered if he’d ever see them again and if they would actually end up keeping in touch like they promised.  Those thoughts finally led him to a darker place, a place that he’d purposely locked away and thrown away the key after the nuclear detonation.  He thought of Emory Perry and her death in Washington D.C.  He’d kept himself from thinking about her while he fought to survive and strengthened his relationship with Jamie and his budding family, but now that there was time to reflect, his thoughts wandered to that dark place

It hurt to think about her and he talked to Jamie about his feelings towards his former fiancé and her loss.  Surprisingly, she wasn’t upset or mad.  In fact, she’d actually encouraged him to open up and talk to her.  It was very difficult for him in the beginning, but eventually, he was able to get his thoughts organized into words so the two of them could have a conversation.  Jamie recommended that he go to the survivor website that the government had set up.  Every little bit helped people to cope with grief, maybe by actually placing Emory’s name on the wall of those killed in the D.C. attack, it would help to ease the pain he’d held inside for so long.

So they pulled out the laptop and together they searched through the site until they found the victim’s wall.  Grayson was surprised to see his own name listed in the “D” section.  Jamie said she’d email the administrator later and let them know that he was alive so they could remove his name, but today was all about helping Grayson to heal.  He’d clicked on the button to submit a new name and entered Emory’s name, former address and estimated date of death.

Now, he’d gotten a reply from the website and it wasn’t anything that he’d expected and his emotions warred within him.  He was excited by the information in the message and yet he also dreaded the possibility that it was a mistake and that telling Jamie would upset her and cause some type of problem with the baby.  She was so little anyways and her belly was huge, the doctors had allowed her to continue walking for fitness, but had restricted anything like the strenuous yoga exercises that they’d regularly practiced when they were at Three Pillars.  This bombshell he was about to drop might actually end up doing her harm, but he knew that he couldn’t keep it from her. 

Jamie set down the strawberry she’d been preparing to eat and picked up the remote to turn off the television.  “What is it honey?” she asked as she scooted up against the arm of the couch to make room for him near her feet.

He set the laptop on the coffee table next to the bowl of strawberries and gently lifted her legs, sat down and placed them back on his thighs so he could massage her swollen feet.  “Oh, this
must
be serious.  You’re starting off with a foot rub,” she teased.  Reba nodded and muttered something under her breath about men.

“Well, I don’t know how to tell you, so I’m just gonna put it out there and see what you think.  I got a reply from
Gone, But Never Forgotten
, you know, the memorial website that we posted Emory’s name to yesterday?” he said as he stared straight ahead and ground his thumb into the pad of her foot.

“Oh, good.  Did they post her name to the site?” Jamie asked.

His mother stopped knitting and looked over to him.  She still knew her son better than his new wife did and could tell that something wasn’t right.  “What is it Dear?” she asked.

“I got an email back from the administrator,” he said as he leaned forward to pick up the laptop.  He scrolled down a little and began to read, “It says, ‘Who is this and why did you attempt to post my name to the memorial wall?  I’m sorry that you’ve been mistaken about my death, but I assure you that I am not dead.’  It’s signed Emory Dawson with the name ‘Perry’ in parentheses.”

“What!” Jamie said as she pulled her legs off of Grayson and put them on the floor with more effort than she’d meant to.

“Hey, careful with the baby Honey,” he admonished.

“Is that supposed to be some kind of sick joke, or do you think she’s actually still alive?” Jamie asked as she jabbed her finger towards the computer.

“I don’t know.  I mean it’s possible that she survived, but I can’t believe that it could be true.  I mean she was at ground zero for a nuclear explosion and then the city, hell the entire region, was overrun by zombies.  There’s no way she’s alive.”

Jamie began to cry.  “What are you going to do?  I mean we just got married, I’m going to have the baby soon, I don’t want to lose you,” she pleaded.

He reached over and pulled her to him.  “What are you talking about?  You’re not going to lose me.  I’m going to reply to this email and figure out the truth about Emory, but that’s not what you’re talking about is it?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond before he said, “Listen, I love you.  Even if she is alive, that isn’t going to change things between us.  You and I were meant to find each other in that hellhole up in Indiana.  You’re the mother of our child for Christ’s sake.”  He glanced over at his mother and absently said, “Sorry,” as he remembered past transgressions and consequent slaps for taking the Lord’s name in vain in the presence of his very Baptist mother.

Jamie sniffled.  “I’m sorry.  I can’t control my emotions these days.  I just got suddenly so panicked that you were going to leave me for her and that the baby and I were going to be all alone, and that I’d lose your family who’ve been so nice to me, and...”

He started to say, “Are you crazy?” but he changed it to, “That would never happen, ok?  Okay?” he said as he gently cupped her chin and looked into her eyes.

“Okay,” she nodded.  “What are you going to say to her?  I mean, that’s a huge deal that she might be alive.”

“I don’t know.  This is almost overwhelming.  I mean, if it’s her, then she must have gone through some crazy stuff to survive what went on in Washington.  Also, if it is her, she’s apparently married since she signed her email with her maiden name in parentheses.  But I don’t want to get my hopes up that she survived if it’s not her.”

“Okay, let’s assume that it’s your Emory Perry, the girl you were engaged to.  Just take it from there and we’ll work through whatever comes up,” Jamie encouraged while she wiped her cheeks with the back of her sleeve.

Grayson nodded and hugged his wife.  Reba smiled, giving Jamie a wink as she did so.  While he typed the response to the email his mother’s darning needles clacked in time with the keys.

***

10 March, 1359 hrs local

The Riverwalk

San Antonio, Texas

Jamie buttoned her shirt and placed the baby over her shoulder to burp her.  Grayson smirked as the baby belched loudly.  She was born two weeks ago and both he and Jamie were showing the battle scars of new parents.  They each had dark circles under their eyes, slurred a little when they spoke and carried a dazed look that said they’d gotten very little continuous sleep in a long time.

The restaurant was still busy, even though it was beyond the normal lunch hours, but on the Riverwalk businesses had learned that there were no normal times, it was always either extremely busy or totally quiet and it was hard to predict what would happen on a day-to-day basis.  Right now, the city was filled with tourists from both the United States and Mexico for the anniversary of the Battle of the Alamo, which was only a few days ago. 

The group’s appetizers sat partially eaten on the table where the waitress had placed them less than five minutes before.  Everyone had eaten slowly, not wanting to accidently eat something that the nursing mother might have wanted, but couldn’t eat while the baby was feeding.

Jamie smiled at everyone and laid the now sleeping baby in her infant carrier.  “See, I told you.  She only eats for a few of minutes then she’s knocked out for hours,” she said as she reached for her glass of wine.  She’d have to pump and dump in order to clear the alcohol from her system, but it was worth it after ten months of not having anything to drink.

Emory grinned at her former fiancé and said, “She is absolutely precious.  I’m so glad that you’ve finally decided to get married and have a family.”

“I know, right?” he said ignoring the little barb that she sent his way since he’d never committed to a wedding date with her.  “I was really scared that she’d be ugly or have a cone head or something, you know.  Hell, there were times that Jamie had nightmares about her being born a zombie, but she’s perfect, our little angel.”

“That’s right, you were in Indianapolis when the attacks occurred out there, right?” Hank asked.

“Yeah, we were pretty much at ground zero there.  Jamie and I met when her sister, Jessica, was killed in the city, that’s why we decided to name the baby after her,” Grayson said as he reached over and gently stroked baby Jessica’s head. 

“We were lucky, we got in with a good group of people and were able to survive for almost six months surrounded the entire time by what the government calls the Type Two zombies.  I’ve read on the internet that there was another type up in D.C. near you guys that were really smart and nasty.  Did you ever run into any of those?”

Hank and Emory glanced at each other.  As part of the government’s requirements to retire, he’d been sworn to secrecy about his career in Delta and had to sign a rock-solid non-disclosure agreement.  The agreement was pretty standard for operators who left the community to pursue other things, but they were particularly concerned about the zombie situation and the presence of two types of zombies.  It was almost comical to him; he’d helped to literally overthrow foreign governments, trained armies and secretly assisted nations, including his own, to neutralize threats to their political stability, but the defining moment of his career centered on the events of his last year of service.

“We heard the rumors too, but I never saw anything other than a bunch of dumb zombies that wanted to kill me,” Hank said.

“We’re still worried about cancer from the radiation, but we can’t let the past dominate our future right?” Emory said in an effort to change the subject.  “So with that in mind, Hank and I are expecting too, I’m about two months along, but it’s still really early so you guys are the first ones people we’ve told.”

“Aww, congratulations you guys.  That’s wonderful,” Grayson said raising his beer for a toast. 

“Any thoughts about where you’re going to settle to raise your family?” Jamie asked.

“My family is from Tallahassee, so we’re gonna try to set up someplace near them and I’ll get some half-assed job to bide my time,” Hank said.

“And my website can be run from just about anywhere.  Plus, you know how much my family drives me crazy, that’s how I ended up on the opposite end of the country from them in the first place.  So with the income from my site and Hank’s military retirement, we should be pretty well off down in Florida, even if he doesn’t do anything worthwhile with his time,” she said with a light elbow to her husband’s ribs. 

Grayson took a drink from his beer and eyed Hank over the rim.  He tried to determine if the man was good enough for her.  Probably not, there were few who would be, but he was glad that she’d found someone that made her happy.  “So, Hank, Emory told me that you’re retired from the Army.  What did you do while you were in?”

“I was Special Forces for a while, worked primarily in the Middle East.  Before that I was a medic,” he said nonchalantly.  “You know, pretty standard Army career, nothing special.”

Grayson picked up his beer and held the neck out towards Hank, “Bullshit.  You’ve got a story, I can feel it.  Hopefully I’ll get to hear it one day.” 

“Maybe one day I’ll be allowed to tell you,” he said with a wink as they each tapped their bottles together and took a long swig.

EPILOGUE

15 April, 0836 hrs local

Karakoram Mountain Range

Afghanistan-Pakistan Border

Kestrel stared at the rising sun and tipped his nearly empty canteen up to get the final few drops of water.  His teammates gathered loosely around him and waited for their extract bird.  He’d led the SOG team for a almost a year since the night they attacked the mountaintop stronghold where Wraith was killed.  Since then their operational tempo had increased faster than at any time that he could remember in his almost twenty-five years in the special operations community.

He was tired in his body and weary in his soul.  He’d done so much for his country, but he wondered if it accomplished anything?  Of course, he knew that his team of good guys was out here on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis arranging meetings in
Jannah
for the bad guys and that almost every mission meant that there was one less radical who would attack the West.  But what did it actually accomplish?  For every terrorist fuck that they killed or snatched out of the mountains for interrogation, five more seemed to erupt from the ground.

It was a never-ending cycle and he’d lost his zeal for field work.  Maybe it was the fact that since he was in charge of the entire team now, he felt like every severe injury and death was his responsibility and since his teammates were following his orders, each one impacted him deeply.  Maybe it was his age; he was closer to fifty than he was to forty and his knees and aching back forced that thought to his mind every day.  Maybe he might want to settle down somehow and begin a family, if there was a woman out there who could handle him.  Hell, maybe he was just sick of washing other people’s blood out of his clothes.  Whatever it was, he knew it was time to hang it up before his mind fully checked out and he got people killed.