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Authors: Arthur Bradley

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BOOK: The Survivalist - 02
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Ernest T. nodded again.

“Just understand that, if you hope to stick around Boone,” warned Mason, “you’ll have to pull your own weight. If you don’t, I’ll personally come back and toss you out on your ear.”

“We’re all hard workers, Marshal. Even the young’uns. You’ll see.”

Mason nodded. “Best be on your way then. And don’t stop for anyone. No matter how little you have, there are people out there willing to take it.”

CHAPTER

2

President Rosalyn Glass sat at the head of a large mahogany table. Vice President Lincoln Pike was to her right, and the Secretary of Defense, Retired General Kent Carr, sat to her left. Leaders from nearly every remaining government agency took up positions around the conference room table. There was a cold sense of worry in the room that felt like someone had accidentally left the air conditioner running all night.

She held up a hand, and the chatter in the room quickly subsided.

“Let’s get to it,” she said, turning to General Carr and nodding. “General, tell us what you know.”

The general was a tall, proud man who sat perfectly straight as he spoke. He was clean shaven except for a thin pencil mustache that had been out of fashion since the days of Vincent Price. With the collapse of so much of the nation’s defense infrastructure, his role as the Secretary of Defense had recently been expanded to become a true commander’s position.

“Yes, Madam President,” he said. “Over the past six days, we’ve been receiving reports of a rapidly growing insurrection. Military bases have been attacked and ransacked, supplies taken, and soldiers killed or missing.”

“Do we know who’s behind it?”

“The attacks appear to be uncoordinated and lacking any kind of central authority or command structure. Based on what we know, it’s more of a widespread civil uprising than an organized rebellion.”

“Are you saying this is a national uprising?”

“It could be the early stages of one, yes.”

“And you believe that this violence is a result of the lack of services? Food, water, electricity—that sort of thing?”

“That’s certainly a large part of it. There’s obviously been a great deal of suffering following the outbreak of Superpox-99. People are not only dealing with the death of loved ones but also the complete loss of services. Most people had grown completely dependent on our national infrastructures. Now, they find themselves foraging for their most basic necessities while dodging violence on every corner. All of this is breeding discontent.”

“That’s understandable,” the president said. “We’ve all lost so much. Still, Americans love their country. There’s got to be more to it than simple discontent and hardship.”

“Indeed.” He turned to the vice president. “Perhaps it would be better if you explained.” The general made no effort to hide the contempt in his voice.

Vice President Pike openly sneered at him before turning to face President Glass.

“The executive order that you signed, Madam President, authorizing action against those infected by the virus is understandably unpopular.”

“Lest you forget, I signed it at your insistence,” she said, her lips pressing firmly together. The thought of the executive order issued against her own population sat in her gut like rancid peanut butter.

“And I still firmly believe that it remains necessary,” he said. “While there is some resistance to it among the broader population—”

”That is an understatement,” said General Carr.

She turned to look at the general.

“Tell me.”

“By all accounts, the Viral Defense Corps is viewed as the brutal arm of a suppressive regime. No different than the Khmer Rouge or Battalion-316.”

“We’re a suppressive regime?”

“When a government sends out hit squads, one could see how the term might be seen as applicable.”

She stared at him, surprised by the directness of his words.

He continued. “Madam President, exterminating people for any reason is a distasteful task, one that many of us find to go against our convictions and even the rule of law. I’ve been outspoken from the beginning that this executive order was a mistake.” Several people at the table murmured in agreement.

“Yet, you offered no alternative,” interjected the vice president.

President Glass turned back to face him.

“Look,” he said, “despite the distastefulness of the task, it is truly necessary. We’ll lose our nation if we don’t stop the maniacal behavior of these . . . these . . .”

“People. They’re people, Lincoln.”

“Are they?” He shuffled through papers in a folder with the words
Top Secret
stamped across the front. “The latest CDC reports show that the infected are undergoing all sorts of physiological changes. Not only to their brains, which, let’s face it, make Charles Manson look like Mahatma Gandhi, but also to their bodies. Here,” he said, pulling out a page. “This one states that they’re experiencing calcification of their bones as well as significant increase in their muscle mass. Christ, they’re all but turning superhuman.” He slapped the page. “Who knows where this ends.”

She looked to General Carr for his response.

“What the vice president says is true. Some are becoming stronger and more violent, and that is indeed worrisome. However, he is conveniently leaving out the fact that many of the infected are not experiencing these changes. In fact, many have stabilized and are viewed as able to safely reintegrate with society.”

“Let me get this straight,” she said. “Are you saying that some of those infected are turning into monsters in every sense of the word, and the rest are basically staying human?” She looked to Vice President Pike and then to General Carr for their confirmation.

Both men nodded.

“The question,” said the vice president, “is whether we want to be reactive or proactive. Are we going to wait until these crazies are banging on our front door before we take action? If we do, it’s going to be too late.”

“I don’t think that’s the question at all,” argued the general. “The real question is whether we want to trade one form of violence for another. With your order, the government essentially declared war on a significant portion of our remaining population. Worse yet is that it also bred a sense of fear and hate in those who were not infected. Believe me when I say that, if we continue down this path, the government will be overthrown. Of that, I have no doubt.”

After a long moment, President Glass said, “All right. Let’s stop this madness.”

“That would be a terrible mistake,” said the vice president, leaning forward across the table. “If anything, we need more aggressive action. If we don’t—”

President Glass held up her hand. “I mean it, Lincoln. By the end of the day, you will have a retraction of the executive order on my desk. Are we clear?”

He stared at her for a full five seconds before answering.

“Fine, for what good that will do.”

She cocked her head.

“Explain yourself.”

“The VDC rules of operation will prevent any interruption in their mission for many months.”

“What are you talking about?” she said, her voice rising. “What rules of operation?”

“Madam President, surely you recall our discussing their need for operational autonomy.”

She thought hard. “So?”

“The only way we could ensure that the VDC didn’t get squeezed by political agendas was to have them operate in the black.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means,” said General Carr, “that Vice President Pike issued orders in your name for the VDC to operate with zero base contact for a period of six months.”

She spun to face the vice president.

“You did what!”

“We discussed this,” he said in a calm voice.

“Like hell we did.”

He shrugged. “I recall the conversation quite clearly.”

She pressed both her hands against the table to keep from strangling him.

“You will leave this room immediately to draft the necessary paperwork to cancel the executive order.”

He nodded with a smug grin.

“Of course, Madam President. I’m here to serve.” He stood up and walked slowly from the room.

When Vice President Pike was gone, her face softened as she turned to face General Carr.

“Can you find a way reach the VDC soldiers?”

“The VDC consists of three hundred specialized teams dispatched all across the country. They are essentially sovereign forces. To track them down would require a force ten times their number. We no longer have that kind of manpower available. One by one, they’ll eventually check in. And when they do, we’ll deactivate them. Until then . . .” He shrugged.

She put her hand on his.

“General, do what you can. Even if it takes months to complete, let’s stop this.”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Will that be enough to get us out of this mess?”

“No, ma’am. I wouldn’t think so.”

“What else then?”

“The level of discontent with the government is growing all across the nation. Ordinary people are killing one another for supplies and overthrowing any local authorities that still remain in power. Unless things change, social disintegration will only accelerate.”

“The uprising you mentioned.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So how can we reverse this . . . disintegration?”

“I’m not sure that we can. Not only is the average citizen acting out of desperation, we also have a large population of convicts, paramilitary survivalists, anarchists, and separatists. The only thing they have in common is that they either don’t want, or no longer believe in, the United States of America. Madam President, our enemies are many.”

She turned to Dr. Jack Fry, the Director of the Federal Emergency Management Agency. Jack had been a close friend and confidant for more than ten years. Just after President Glass took office, he had been in a car crash that left him unable to walk and confined to a wheel chair.

“Jack, can we accelerate our relief efforts?”

“On paper, yes. In practice, no. We have warehouses full of all sorts of supplies, MREs, bottled water, blankets, medicines, you name it. The problem is that there’s no viable way to efficiently distribute them. The roads are congested with cars, making ground transportation difficult. Commercial airports are inoperable, making air transport even more difficult. Distributing by train requires—”

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding up her hands. “Who can we get supplies to?”

“The big cities are all but lost. We’ve tried to truck in supplies, but the shipments are either attacked by those infected by the virus or hijacked by violent opportunists.”

“What about the smaller towns?”

“That’s where we’re beginning to focus our efforts.”

“So things will improve then?”

“For some communities, yes.”

“You don’t sound optimistic.”

He sighed. “I don’t want to oversell this. The truth is that we’re losing ground each and every day. People are dying of dehydration and starvation, and I’m not able to stop it.” His voice broke slightly as he struggled to keep from getting emotional.

President Glass offered a heartfelt smile.

“Jack, if you save a single life, you’re helping. Don’t you give up on me, you old fool.”

Tears welled in his eyes.

“No, ma’am,” he said, swallowing. “Never.”

She turned to General Carr.

“I need for you to help put a stop to the hijacking of relief supplies. Do whatever’s necessary. Let’s get the supply convoys to people who need them the most.”

The general nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make it a priority.”

Next, she turned to Bill Baker, the Secretary of Energy. Bill was a big, jolly man whose proudest achievements had come while serving in the Peace Corps in Africa. With a few beers in him, he would often recount his time dodging armed rebels whom he claimed were only slightly less common than the blood-sucking tsetse flies. He had not been entirely successful in avoiding conflict, however, as one such encounter left him with a bayonet wound to his throat. While the wound had eventually healed, his vocal cords had been permanently damaged.

“Where are we with the nation’s power grid?” she asked.

Bill answered in a slow, guttural voice that caused several people in the room to clear their throats.

“Experts are drawing up plans to get some systems back online. As you know, the electrical network is divided into several major and minor interconnections, or grids. The country is roughly divided in half along the Rocky Mountains by the two major interconnections. The minor interconnections cover parts of Texas and Alaska.”

“And how many of those are back up?”

He looked surprised by the question.

“None.”

“Okay, let me ask this differently. Which one will come online first, and when?”

“The Alaskan Interconnection is the only one likely to come online anytime soon. That system is isolated from the major Eastern and Western grids and is therefore easier to bring back up. Also, the people of Alaska were not hit as hard by the virus because they are geographically spread out. In fact, some rural Alaskan communities were not hit by the virus at all.”

“Yes, yes, I know that. What I want to know is why we’re not bringing up the major power grids now.”

“Ma’am, the nation’s power grid is made up of independently owned power stations, transmission lines, and distribution substations. There are literally hundreds of companies that own and maintain these facilities. We simply have no authority to bring them back up.”

“Even so, can’t we help what’s left of these companies to get the lights back on?”

“Of course, and we’re trying to do just that. Unfortunately, there are too few skilled technicians and engineers left alive. For every one we find, two more leave their posts to care for their families.”

“So how long, Bill? Give me a number. A week?” She cringed when he didn’t answer. “A month?”

“With the help of military personnel,” he said, looking at General Carr, “we might be able to have one of the major interconnections up and running by this time next year.”

BOOK: The Survivalist - 02
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