Outbreak: Boston (8 page)

“Lacey, is there a spare barrel for that fifty?” Frays asked as she quickly donned her pro mask and rubber gloves. “Eamon, what weapons and ammo did you find?” Amy began patting down the first of the half dozen or so infected corpses scattered along the shattered edge where the bridge used to be attached.

“They don't got one, Frays.” Lacey said quickly. “There's only about forty or fifty rounds left.”

“I found six clips for your rifles.” Eamon volunteered as he snapped off a pair of rubber gloves and tossed them on the ground. “Three for the
ir pistols, a pair of night vision goggles, a GPS thingy and these.” The EMT held up two M67 fragmentation grenades in each hand.

She found what she was looking for in the breast pocket of the third corpse's bathrobe: a cell phone similar to her own damaged one. “Thank you, stranger.” Frays whispered as she brushed the corpse's eyes shut. Amy stashed her protective gear back in its carrier then swapped out the SIM card in the dead man's phone for the one in her own. She groaned in frustration: now
her phone worked perfectly save for the fact it did not get a signal.

Amy took three of the rifle magazines and handed the others to Lacey. “Checkpoint Ten is getting overrun.” she said quickly as she stuffed one of the mags into the empty space in her carrier and tucked the others into one of the cargo pockets on her trousers. She
dropped two of the green metallic baseballs into a dump pouch on her LCS and indicated that Lacey should take the other two. “Eamon, you drive the Humvee. I'll man the crew served. Lacey, bring up the rear in the Five Ton. We might have to help evacuate the friendlies, so be ready to pick them up.”

Their little convoy took off like a shot towards the other bridge. Eamon seemed to be enjoying himself, though Amy wished he would try to avoid some of the
potholes. Lacey didn't seem to have any trouble keeping up with the pace Eamon set, the larger truck knocking obstructions out of its way with ease. Some of the voices on the radio started to shout that they were running low on ammunition. Frays keyed the radio. “This is Bravo Three Four.” she said quickly, looking back over her shoulder at Lacey through the windscreen of the Five Ton “I've got an empty Five Ton. You guys up there just hold out a little longer. We're on our way to the supply point and we'll be right there with resupply. How copy?”

Several voices affirmed that they had heard her when she had Eamon head back north. Thankfully, Lacey had been listening to the radio traffic and followed suit. Ten minutes of driving like lunatics brought them to the nearest supply point. “Oh, no...” Amy moaned as they entered the compound.

Piles of garbage blew around the ruins of what, up until recently at least, had been the EOC. They motored slowly towards where the supply tent was, every nerve standing on end. The air was thick with the smell of burning rubber and canvas: what used to be the mess tent was now a smoldering pile of canvas. When they came to the supply tent, things weren't that much better. Containers, papers and cardboard boxes littered the ground around the tent.

“Let's get all the water, food and ammo we can find loaded up in the Five Ton.” Amy said as she snatched up a carton of MREs. “Put the ammo up front so they can get
that unloaded first.”

Lacey gave her a sour look. “Why don't we just take this stuff and bug out?” he asked, slinging a cardboard container of bottled water into the bed of the Five Ton. “What the hell are we staying her for?”

Amy walked up to the man. “I'm not gonna argue with you, Lacey.” she said angrily, stopping a few paces away from him. “We're gonna help those people, got that?”

They had scrounged up three or four metal ammunition
cans of 5.56 NATO ammunition along with a full can of .50 cal rounds and about four hundred rounds of 9mm NATO. There were also three M16A3 assault rifles (one of which had another M203 mounted on it) that did not have a current owner, two M9s and a couple Glock 17s they found on some policemen who wouldn't be needing them anymore. Just as important, they managed to find a couple boxes of empty magazines for the M9s and AR-15 pattern rifles. On the food front, they managed to turn up about a pallet and a half or so of MREs and two pallets of bottled water. Eamon helped himself to one of the dead policeman's Kevlar vests.

Once they were on their way Lacey stared at the young woman sticking out of the cupola of the Humvee ahead of him. He kept
one hand on the steering wheel while the other slipped down to the butt of his pistol, his index finger pushing the button that released the holster's locking mechanism. The weapon slid out almost on its own and found its way to his lap.

Frays was scanning the buildings in front of them, not paying any mind to hi
m. He

pointed his pistol at her and flicked
the weapon’s safety catch off. The radio squawked, startling him into snapping the M9 back into its holster as he felt around for the handset. It seemed that everybody and their brother were falling back. However, where exactly they were falling back
to
seemed to be anybody's guess.

“We're joining them!” Frays called over the radio. The Humvee's wheels squealed as the vehicle spun around. Lacey could not quite maneuver the Five Ton as well; the truck smashed into a light pole and backed into a parked car. The light pole groaned and fell, shattering the window of a storefront. He glanced in the rear view mirror and saw what had changed Amy's mind. Dozens of figures lurched towards the trucks, the air filling with a low moan. Lacey wished Eamon would hurry up and drive.

Fifteen or twenty blocks went by when the Humvee slowed. “Any station this net, Any station this net, this is um...break... hey, Lacey can you read me the bumper number off this Humvee?.” Amy said as calmly as she could manage into the radio's handset.

“HQ Five Niner.” said Lacey. He somehow managed to keep the growing frustration roiling around in his stomach out of his voice.

“This is HQ Five Niner.” Amy said quickly. Eamon knocked a stalled sedan out of his way, making Frays' head snap back. She winced and squeezed her eyes shut for a second, biting back a shout. “Where is the rally point, over?”

A voice cut through the babble. “This is Liberty Six.” it said, taking Amy by surprise. Whoever Liberty Six was, he was at least a brigade commander or higher. “How did you get that Humvee, HQ Five Niner?”

A chill ran down Amy's spine. He did not sound happy. “This is HQ Five Niner, sir.” she said, her mind racing to search for the right way to put what could be sensitive information over relatively open communications. She decided on the direct approach. “There was nothing we could do, sir. The assigned personnel are KIA.”

The radio was silent for a moment. “Roger that, HQ Five Seven.” said Liberty Six. Somebody, probably Liberty Six, keyed their mike two or three times. “This really is a soup sandwich. The rally point is Hanscomb Air Force Base.
I say again, all personnel on this net fall back to Hanscomb Air Force Base.”

Amy got Eamon to hurry along, the Five Ton keeping pace. Once they were about a mile and half or so from the edge of the city, Frays called their little convoy to halt. “Group meeting, everybody.” she said, motioning for Lacey to join the two of them near the Humvee. Once the Marine got there, Frays looked around nervously. “Okay, the way I see it, we've got two options.

“We can go to the AFB with everyone else” she said, still looking around. “Or we can make for my parent’s hunting camp about ten or twelve miles north of Holden. It's back in the woods and well off the road.” Amy leaned against the cupola, though still keeping an eye on their surroundings.

Eamon looked at the two soldiers. “I think we should go to your
hunting camp thing.” he said carefully. There was something strange in the man's voice.

Amy sighed. “Just to let you know, when this mess gets sorted out, we'd all be in a lot of trouble.” she said gravely. The woman wiped at a drop of sweat rolling down her forehead. “Lacey and I could be charged with desertion and hung.”

“That sucks for you, but I'm a civilian.” Eamon said quickly. “I don't have to do anything I don't want to.”

Amy gave the EMT a wry smile. “Don't worry.” she said, pausing to maneuver the straw of her hydration bladder into her mouth and take a drink. “Technically, you're stealing government property right now. Get caught driving this thing without us and I hope you don't have any plans for the next ten years or so. If you’re not shot
on sight for looting. I don’t know if they’ve change the ROE regarding that yet.”

“So, why did you call a stop?” Lacey asked. He turned his back to the Humvee and pretended to pull security. “Did you just want to threaten us or something?”

“The way I see it, this is a decision that I can't make for you.” Amy said sharply. She dug into her pockets then remembered that her cigarettes were ruined. This did not improve her mood. “You should know the consequences of your actions.”

“Fine, fine.” Lacey grumbled as he ambled back towards the Five Ton. “Let's get going. It's a long drive to the Air Force Base.”

The roads out of the city were almost impassible in places, causing their merry band to drive on the shoulder or alongside the road to get around the various traffic jams and accidents. They were perhaps ten miles outside the city when a lone figure approached their convoy, waving her arms over her head.

Eamon slowed the Humvee to allow them a better look. “Hey, it's a little old lady.” he said and brought the vehicle to a full stop. “We can't leave her out here.”

Amy frowned. “You're right.” she picked up the handset and told Lacey to keep his eyes open. She looked the old woman over critically. The dirt smeared on her clothes concerned her less than the M16 slung over her shoulder. Frays pointed the .50 cal in her general direction. “Hold it right there. Were you bit? Did one of them throw up on you?”

The old woman halted perhaps fifty or seventy five meters away. “No. No.” she said, raising her hands over her head. “I'm Jean Ann Lewis. They tried busing us out of the home before everything got too bad. I don't think it worked out quite as well as they planned.”

Amy studied the woman. “You talk funny. You’re not from around here, are you?”

Jean smirked. “I'm British.”

“Get in.”

Eamon looked at the old woman out of the corner of his eye as she climbed into the passenger's seat of the Humvee. Once they got everybody situated the convoy started off down the road again. The EMT looked at the old woman in the back seat. “English.” he snorted.

The road became clearer as they left the city behind and drew nearer their destination. The shoulder of the road was torn up where the treads of heavy vehicles shoved stalled cars out of the way and into the ditch. Amy got Eamon to stop the convoy for a moment.

“Hey, Eamon.” Frays said as she ducked down inside the vehicle. “Can you get up here for a minute?”

“I don't know how to use that big ass thing.” he said from the driver's seat. The man scratched his chin and pulled something out of his beard. He flicked whatever it was out the window.

Jean Ann piped up. “I can. I used to be in the army back home, Airman.”

Amy frowned down at the older woman. “Fine.” she said and dropped down out of the cupola. “Keep an eye out. I'll be right back.”

Amy kept her eyes peeled as she approached the crumpled rear end of a Crown Victoria. Nobody appeared to be inside, though Frays still pointed her M4 at the inside of the vehicle. She tried the door handle of the car and found it locked. The young woman frowned and smashed in the window with the butt of her rifle. The others looked on curiously as she pulled open the door and leaned inside. They could hear loud noises coming from the car.

Frays came back a few minutes later, a pile of electrical parts clutched in her hand. “What's all that there?” Eamon asked as the woman came around to his door.

“Once we get to the AFB I'll hook us up with a cell phone charger.” she answered as she pulled open the driver's side door. “Why don't you take a break? I'll drive for a little while.”

Strangely, the road seemed reasonably clear as they made their way back to Hanscomb Air Force Base. She steered the truck on autopilot, barely even paying any attention to the road ahead. A silence settled over them as they drove. Frays found herself trying to block out the voices coming in over the radio after awhile. Listening to the people screaming for help left her feeling cold and numb inside. From the look on Eamon’s face he was feeling about the same way. They sat listening with morbid fascination as a hot mike brought the voice of someone, they could not make out the gender of the speaker, whimpering for his or her mother. Eamon reached over to try and turn off the radio but Frays caught his wrist. “We need to stay in touch with everybody.” she said quietly.

“STOP!” Jean screeched. Eamon braced himself against the dashboard as Amy instinctively slammed on the brakes. Behind them the Five Ton’s brakes squealed as it tried to stop before rear ending the Humvee. Amy looked around, trying to see what made the woman in the cupola so upset.

An Abrams tank sat at the highway exit that would eventually lead them to Hanscomb Air Force Base and a squad of infantrymen advanced on them, M4s at the ready. “Keep your hands on the dash and don’t make any sudden movements.” Amy advised as four of the soldiers broke off and came to their vehicle.

“Out of the Humvee!” the soldier closest to Amy’s door demanded. Frays watched as three of the soldiers went to the Five Ton and tried to pull Lacey out of the truck. Eamon jumped when a bullet spanged off the blacktop outside the Humvee. “DO IT NOW!”