Rolling Thunder - 03 (14 page)

Maybe it was my imagination, maybe it was the cigarette, or
maybe it was the distraction of talking to Max but it seemed Rachel was being
more gentle than normal as she treated me.  Probably the smoke.  I was savoring
the cigarette with my head leaned back and Max had rolled another foot forward
so we could talk easily.  He had beat me to the punch of asking about our
story, so I told him.  I made sure to include how his broadcasts had helped us,
had certainly saved our lives, and left out certain parts that no one other
than Rachel and I ever needed to know or think about.  I skipped over a lot of
details to do with my injuries that Rachel was treating and she was happy to
fill in the gaps I left.  She made me sound like a military genius when she
filled in the details about the defense of Murfreesboro.  I wanted to downplay
my role, never being one to trumpet what I do, but she wouldn’t let me.

“OK, that’s us.  Now it’s your turn.”  I said, grunting as
Rachel started another stitch in the palm of my hand.

Max lit another cigarette and shifted his shoulders to a
more comfortable position.  “I used to be in the Navy.  Was a SEAL in fact. 
Got hurt in Afghanistan and wound up in this chair.  Well, I spent a few years
pissed off at the world, bored as hell.  Started drinking, a lot, and was
generally a nasty prick.  My wife finally had enough and left one night when I
had drank myself into oblivion.  Took my boys with her.  Even took the goddamn
dog.”  Dog raised his head from where he was lying by my feet, but when no one
gave him any attention he relaxed with a sigh and put his chin back on my boot.

“Probably the best thing that happened to me.  Suddenly I
didn’t have anyone to cook for me, wash my clothes, go shopping for me.  I was
on my own.  It took a few months but I got off the booze, but damn the world is
a boring place when you’re sober.  Anyway, Ryan here started coming around to
check on me.  He was old enough to drive by then so my ex couldn’t stop him,
and he was just starting to play around with ham radio.  The next thing I knew
I had a whole room devoted to it and was spending the majority of every day in
there.

“Kept me off the sauce and I got to talk to a lot of
interesting people from all over the world.  When this shit hit, my boys were
spending the week with me while their mother was off with her new boyfriend. 
Anyways, I had stayed in touch with friends in the Navy and at the Pentagon,
and while no one knew what was coming there had been talk for a couple of weeks
that a big strike against us was in the works.  I had been preparing.  Weapons,
food, water, medical supplies.  And knowing our government the way I do, I also
got my hands on an AM transmitter.  Figured there might be some folks that
could use some information when the shit hit the fan.

“My house was way back in the woods, well north of Atlanta,
so we were OK for a bit.  As the infection started spreading and the infected
started moving we had to hit the road.  Had a hell of a nice one ton van with a
big push bar on the front courtesy of the VA, and that got us out of Georgia
and up to Nashville.  Our luck had about run out when it broke down on the way
to the train station and we got caught up in that crowd where you found us.  I
owe you more than I can tell you.”

I waved off his thanks with the hand Rachel had finished
then used it to accept the fresh cigarette Max offered.  Rachel straightened
her back with a groan, pausing in her work and snatched it out of my hand. 
Sticking it in her mouth she lit it with Max’s zippo, took a couple of inhales
then passed it to me.

“I never even tried a cigarette until I met you.”  She said,
looking at me with an accusatory smile.  “They taste like shit but make me feel
relaxed.”

“That’s what I always said about gin!”  Max answered with a
laugh.

“So how are you getting the information you’re broadcasting?” 
I asked him, not rising to the challenge of being blamed for Rachel smoking.

“Satellite phone and friends in the Pentagon.  Well, not in
the Pentagon anymore, but they’re at the secure site where the Pentagon has
moved to.  They talk to me when they can and tell me what they can.  It’s
pretty chaotic and the White House and Congressional leaders have set up at a
separate location and there’s not a lot of leadership coming down the chain of
command.  Not that there ever was, but it’s worse than usual.” 

Max leaned forward and continued in a low voice.  “There’s
some generals that are about ready to seize control and cut the President and
Congress off.”  This didn’t surprise me when I thought about it.  Our current
president was no friend of the military and the idea of a coup after the
devastation of the country wasn’t nearly as far-fetched as some might think.

“What have your friends told you about this secondary
outbreak?  What about the smart infected females that are popping up.”  Rachel
had finished suturing both hands by now and was busily bandaging them up.  That
meant the big needle of antibiotic was coming soon.  I kind of hoped she’d
forget.

“What I know is that it wasn’t just nerve gas that was
released in the attack.  There was also a very contagious virus combined in the
aerosol.  This virus is what is keeping the infected alive, apparently helping
them survive the biological changes the nerve gas causes.  They’ve also learned
that it has a secondary effect that takes about two weeks to incubate.  It
mimics the effects of the nerve gas, impacting brain chemistry, but it does it
differently and doesn’t completely destroy all of the higher brain functions.”

“So anyone who turned from the second wave will still have
some of their higher cognitive functions intact?”  Rachel asked without pausing
in her work.

“That’s what I’m told, but I haven’t seen it myself.  Tell
me about it.”

I told Max about the females that I was calling smart.  It
all made sense, what he was saying.  I hadn’t seen any like that before the
second wave.

“Do we know just how smart they are?  And by the way it only
seems to be women that are retaining any intelligence.  The males that are
infected seem just as dumb as ever.”

“I don’t know,” Max answered with a concerned look on his
face.  “But you can bet I’ll pass on what you’ve told me and ask some more
questions the next time I’m on the phone.”

“What about those of us that haven’t turned?”  Rachel asked,
holding a large vial up to the light and stabbing a syringe into its top.

“No one knows.  Our researchers are stating that some of us,
maybe about ten percent of the population, are immune to the nerve agent and by
extension the virus.  How they know, I don’t know.  Don’t even know if they’re
right, or if we’re all going to wake up tomorrow morning with a hunger for
human flesh.”

That thought killed the conversation, plus it was time for
my shot.  Rachel waved me out of my seat and I stood up with a sigh, turned
around and unbuckled my belt and pants.  Rachel pulled them down in back,
swabbed an area with alcohol and jabbed the needle in.  OK, forget what I said
about her being gentler. 

It’s a little over 200 miles from Nashville to Memphis. 
Based on the speed Colonel Crawford had said we were travelling, I estimated
the trip would take about four and a half hours and we’d been rolling for close
to an hour.  We’d left the thunderstorms behind, but there was heavy cloud
cover and the landscape outside the windows was completely dark.  I raised my
rifle a few times to peer through the night vision scope, but there wasn’t
anything to see other than passing trees and pastures so I sat back and
relaxed.  Max had rolled off to a row of seats where his boys had stretched out
to get some rest and Rachel and I sat together with Dog at our feet.

“We should talk about the elephant in the room.”  Rachel
said.  I didn’t want to have this conversation, but she was right.  Saying what
she’d said was no different than firing a rifle.  Once you pull the trigger you
can’t take the bullet back.

“What did Mel say to you just before she died?”

“She told me to quit lying to myself and be honest.”  Rachel
turned her head to look at me as she talked.  “She saved my life, you know.  A
female came through the window right next to us and was coming straight at me. 
We were jammed in so tight I couldn’t move, but she jumped and put herself
between us.”

I was quiet for a minute.  “Sounds like you two had quite a
conversation about me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.  You’re not that conversation worthy.” 
I grinned but didn’t say anything.  “Actually we almost came to blows a couple
of times.  Not over you, she was just one of those people that… well, she was
just one of those people.  But she was also right.  I’m sorry if I’ve made you
uncomfortable, or whatever it is but we could die ten minutes from now.  I just
spoke my mind and my heart.”

I sat there for a long time, digesting what she’d said.  I
knew she wanted me to tell her something, anything.  Opening your heart up to
someone and then getting nothing in return is one of the loneliest feelings in
the world.

“Rachel, you know my situation.  What I may or may not feel
for you doesn’t enter into the mix right now.  I’m married.  I love my wife and
I’m going to find out what happened to her or die trying.  That hasn’t
changed.  Any feelings I have for you aren’t going to stop me from doing that.”

“Really?”  She sounded pissed.  “Is that really why you think
I told you how I feel?  You actually think I want you to stop, to just give up
on her?  You’ve seriously misjudged me if that’s what you think.”

“Then what?”  I turned to meet her eyes.  “What do you think
can happen?  Suppose I tell you I love you and we keep looking for her and find
her alive and waiting for me.  What then?”

Rachel looked back at me, her eyes moving slightly side to
side as she looked into each of mine.  “I don’t know.  All I know is how I feel
about you and I haven’t thought about any of the rest of it.  My promise to
help you find her is still good, and if we find her alive and waiting I’ll be
happy for you and wish you well.  But that doesn’t change anything about how I
feel today.  How I’ve been feeling for a while.”

Shit.  My head was spinning and I just wanted to crawl in a
hole and pull the ground in behind me.

“Just tell me one thing,” she continued after a long pause. 
“Do you love me too?”

I drew in a deep breath, held it and let it out in a long
sigh.  “Honestly, I don’t know what I feel.  Do I have feelings for you?  Yes. 
Am I in love with you?  Maybe.  I don’t know.  You remind me so much of her
it’s hard for me not to like many of the things I see in you that first
attracted me to her.  What I know is I’m glad we’re together and I’m truly
sorry I can’t give you what you want right now.”

After a long moment Rachel placed her hand on top of mine
and gave me a weak smile.  “I can deal with honesty.  Just let me know when you
know.”

I smiled back, grateful the conversation was over.  One of
the things I loved about Katie was that we never had to have these
conversations about our feelings.  I made up my mind right there that when I
found Katie I was going to remind her I fought my way across the entire country,
to be with her, every time she started fishing for a compliment about her
appearance or reassurance that I loved her.  Not that she did it often, but I’d
just found the Holy Grail for married men everywhere.  ‘Honey, I fought my way
across 2,000 miles and millions of infected to come back to you, getting shot,
bitten and generally having my ass kicked the entire way.  Of course you look
good in that outfit’.

I couldn’t help but laugh at myself and fortunately, before
Rachel could inquire into what was so amusing I saw Jackson enter the front of
the car.  He was pushing his way through the evacuees, looking around then
nodding when he spotted me.  I didn’t feel the need to stand up to greet him. 
I was just too damn tired, and sat there watching him approach.  In his wake I
could see a man in an Air Force Class A uniform, I think the AF calls them
something like Service Dress or some such nonsense, which struck me as really
odd considering we were in a combat zone, not a conference room.  Then I saw
the single star the Air Force officer was wearing, said a curse to myself and
climbed to my feet, wondering what the hell a Brigadier General was doing
here. 

On my feet and stepping into the aisle, I looked up from the
star to the face of the man and was momentarily confused.  I knew the face, and
it didn’t belong in a uniform with a star on it, or in any uniform as far as I
was concerned.  I lunged forward, pushing past Jackson who spun when I moved,
expecting to see an attacking infected.  My right hand was up and a punch that
would knock his head off was started when I remembered my damaged hand and
modified my movement.  Instead of striking his face with my fist I connected
solidly with my forearm, knocking him to the bloody floor on his back.  I
continued forward, drawing my Ka-Bar and landed on his body, pressing the tip
of the knife to his throat.

“You gutless fucker.  I should carve you up right here.”  I
snarled, my face inches from his.

 Jackson had been caught completely unprepared for my attack
on the man he had accepted as a General, and the soldiers that had accompanied
him stood frozen, looks of shock on their faces.  Recovering quickly, Jackson
stepped to my side and placed a hand lightly on my shoulder.

“Major, take it easy.”  From the corner of my eye I could
see his other hand held a pistol along the side of his leg, pointed at the
floor.

“Fuck easy,” I growled.  “This piece of shit isn’t a
General.  He’s an Air Force Captain and a deserter.”

“Sergeant, get this crazy man off of me!”  Captain Roach
shouted, trying to bluff his way out of the problem he found himself in.

“He’s telling the truth, Sergeant.”  Rachel spoke up from
behind me.  “That’s an Air Force Security Forces Captain, not a General.  He
was with us when we were evacuating people at Arnold Air Force Base and was
supposed to be guarding our rear, but he just disappeared.  We thought the
infected got him, but he must have abandoned us and run away.”

Roach’s eyes were looking all over the place, the momentary
bluff and bravado gone.  “I didn’t run away.  I got knocked out and barely made
it out alive.”

I heard Jackson’s pistol slide back into his holster a
moment before he removed his hand from my shoulder.  “What do you want to do
with him, Major?”

I wanted to gut the son of a bitch and toss him off the
train for the infected to feed on.  I wanted to stand him up against the wall
and shoot pieces of him off, one at a time.  Desertion during a time of war is
a serious offense in the military and is punishable by either life at hard
labor or execution.  Maybe we weren’t fighting a declared war, but I didn’t
think anyone was going to give Roach an inch on that technicality.  Half a
second from ramming the blade into his head I thought better of my actions. 
Sheathing the knife I stood up and looked at the two soldiers standing on the
other side of Roach.

“Search him and restrain him.  I don’t care how you tie him
up, but you’ll answer to me if he gets away.”  One of them quickly bent down
and started frisking Roach while the other covered him with his rifle.  “And
get that goddamn uniform off of him.  It’s a fucking disgrace to all the good
men and women who have died.”

Turning, I took a deep breath and met Jackson’s eyes. 

“What are you going to do?”  He asked.  The look on his face
told me he’d be fine with whatever I decided to do to Roach.

“I’m going to let the Colonel decide.  He’s the ranking
officer.”  Jackson nodded and watched as the soldiers finished searching Roach,
removing two pistols and a knife before yanking him to his feet and starting to
strip the uniform off of him.  When he was stripped to his underwear one of
them used the knife they’d taken off him to cut his shirt into strips that were
then used to tightly bind his hands behind his back before roughly shoving him
into a seat where they used more strips to tie his ankles to the legs of the
seat.  He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Can I use your radio to talk to the Colonel?”  I asked
Jackson.  He didn’t hesitate to pull the small unit out of his vest, remove the
earpiece and hand all of it to me.

“The Colonel is Bird Dog,” he said before I could ask.

Earpiece in place I called for the Colonel and a moment
later heard his voice answer.  I filled him in on the situation with the
infected first, then briefed him on Roach.  He remembered Roach from Arnold.

“You didn’t kill him on sight?”

“Damn near did, sir.  If I was the ranking officer on site I
wouldn’t have hesitated.”

“Not sure I would have shown the same restraint, but I
appreciate you not finishing the piece of shit off right then and there. 
What’s his status?”

“Restrained with a couple of guards on him.  He’s not going
anywhere.”

Crawford was silent for a bit, then asked me to put Jackson
on the radio.  I handed the equipment over and sat back down while Jackson
spoke with the Colonel.

“What’s going on?”  Rachel asked.  She was sitting next to
me, leaning over to look at where Roach was secured to the seat. 

“I don’t know the Colonel well enough to guess what he’s
going to do.  What Roach did, first deserting, then impersonating a General so
he could get on the train and escape, he’s in deep, deep shit at a minimum. 
The desertion during time of war is enough under the UCMJ – Uniform Code of
Military Justice – to stand him up against a wall and put a bullet in his
head.  I can’t remember the last time the US executed a deserter, but it’s been
a very long time.  If it was up to me we’d restart the precedent with this
prick.”

Jackson wrapped up his conversation with Crawford and came
over to stand next to me.  I looked up and met his eyes.  “Would you really
have shot me, Master Sergeant?”

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t have and stay friends.”  He
answered with a grin.  I nodded and grinned back.  This guy was OK.

“What did the Colonel say?”

“He appointed me his advocate.  I hear testimony from you
two then from the prisoner and make the decision.  If I find him guilty the
Colonel has already authorized execution.” 

“You and the Colonel must go back a ways,” I said, not
really surprised at the trust and responsibility Crawford was placing in
Jackson.

“Lot of years, sir.  We’ve eaten a lot of the same dirt.”  I
nodded.  It’s actually quite common in the Special Forces community, where
differences between officer and enlisted are much less strictly adhered to than
in the rest of the military, for officers and NCOs that have worked together
for years to become friends and even trusted confidants.

“I’m not going to drag this out, and I don’t think we have
time to worry about niceties.  Hell, he doesn’t even have legal counsel.  So,
I’ve already heard Rachel.  Tell me.”

I did.  Starting with when I arrived back at Arnold from
rescuing Gwen in Atlanta and encountering Roach as he fought with an infected. 
I detailed how we had gone into flight ops and brought the people out.  The
fight across the tarmac to the ill-fated Globemaster flight and how Roach who
was in the rear had disappeared as we started pressing into the herd of infected
between us and the plane.  We had all thought he’d been taken down and killed,
in fact had never had a reason to suspect otherwise until now. 

Jackson listened intently and when I was finished asked a
couple of questions, then nodded and went over to stand in front of Roach.  I
was too far away to hear what he was asking and what answers Roach was giving,
but I could see Roach’s body language and could tell he knew he was arguing for
his life.  The conversation lasted five minutes then Jackson walked back over
to me.

“He tells the same story you do, then says when you were on
the tarmac that he was attacked by a female and knocked unconscious.  When he
came around the plane was burning and all the infected were at the far end of
the runway, so he got the hell out of there.  Swears he didn’t run off.  Any
chance he’s telling the truth?”

Shit.  Anything is possible, but I didn’t believe Roach’s
story for a second.  “If he’s telling the truth, what’s with the uniform?  I
might be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it wasn’t for him
showing up impersonating a General.”

“Yeah, that’s where I have a problem too.”  Jackson nodded. 
“He says he had to hide in the General’s office during his escape from the base
and needed to change clothes because his were covered with blood.”

“Not the last time I saw him, they weren’t.”  Rachel said. 
“And that was after we had made it onto the tarmac.  He was dirty from a
scuffle, but there wasn’t blood on him then.”

“And neither of you saw anything?  He was there when you
started out onto the flight line then he was just gone?”  Both of us nodded.