Aftermath (18 page)

“
How does this place still have electricity?” Father Jim asked with naked wonder.

Lee made his way through the crowd, counting heads as he went. “It’s got a battery bank that’s constantly trickle charged by solar panels outside. It’ll have electricity until the sun goes out, and a couple days after.”

“
Amazing,” one of the people said genuinely.

“
Do you have food?”

“
Do you have water?”

Standing at the mouth of the hallway, Lee faced back to them. He caught the eye of Harper. “Can you help me get some supplies out?”

Lee instructed the group to go into the living area where they could use the restroom and clean themselves, if they wished. Then he, Harper, Josh, and Miller began hauling out cases of water and MRE’s to give to the people, while Doc began making the rounds amongst Father Jim’s people, assessing each person to see if they were in good health. Many had old wounds that were not completely healed, and some had become swollen with infection. Others had jungle rot on their feet. Everyone was dehydrated to some degree and suffering from malnutrition.

Doc treated those with infection and jungle rot with antibiotics, and a few with severe dehydration he gave an IV of lactated ringers, a diluted sodium solution. Everyone was given two MRE’s and instructed to eat slowly and not to overstuff themselves, especially if they were dehydrated. After everyone had eaten, and Doc had seen to their medical needs, they each showered. The bunker’s water supply fed from a well and was heated through a tankless water heater. It continued pumping out hot water for all of them.

Lee went last. He had disposed of the smiley-face t-shirt and old BDUs that Bus had given him. To replace them, a set of clean multicam combat pants and shirt sat folded just outside the shower stall. On top of them was Jack’s lucky lottery ticket that Lee had rescued from the other pair of pants.

With the quiet mumble of survivors just beyond the closed shower curtain, he closed his eyes and tuned them out. He imagined that the tragedies and triumphs of the last six days since he’d left his house were like the dirt and sweat and grime that clung to his skin, something he could rinse away. He scrubbed at the blood still staining his hands and knees and watched the water running off of him turn pink. Eventually it ran clear again. And when it did he imagined that none of this had ever happened and that life was normal again.

CHAPTER 11: BEST LAID PLANS

After everyone had been showered and fed, it was almost 2100 hours and many of Father Jim’s group found a bunk or a cot to fall asleep on. Lee went to the storage room and brought out several more cots, blankets, sleeping bags, and mats for the tired group of survivors to sleep on. They all thanked him profusely. A safe place to sleep with food and water in their bellies was the best thing to happen to any of them since this began.

With most of the group bedded down, Lee quietly made his way to where Harper and the Camp Ryder group were tucked away in the corner. “You guys all get something to eat and drink? Everyone get a shower?”

They all answered in the affirmative.

“
Alright.” Lee knelt down in their circle. “I need to speak to you guys privately for a moment.”

They exchanged a few glances amongst themselves. The feeling
they all had
was that their current situation was too good to be true, and though it was unspoken, they all felt that their good fortune had been tapped and something catastrophically wrong was about to occur. Lee had to admit, he felt the same way.

“
It’s nothing bad,” he reassured them.

That statement did little to ease the look on their faces as they all stood and accompanied Lee to the privacy of the storage room.

“
What’s this about?” Harper asked quietly once they were inside.

Lee spilled it out without pulling any punches. “Before we left, Marie asked me to do
something
. She said she had family in Smithfield and she believed they might still be alive,
with
a group of survivors at the First Baptist Church. She asked me to bring them some communications equipment so that Camp Ryder and Smithfield could get in contact and perhaps help each other. And I agreed to do that.”

“
But...” Miller looked at him, shaking his head.

“
Let me finish.” Lee held up a finger. “I made that promise to Marie, and I intend to keep it. But I don’t make promises for other
people
, so any of you that want to go straight back to Camp Ryder, that’s fine. I just ask that you drop me off at the edge
of Smithfield
, once we cross over I-95.”

Harper hissed through his teeth. “Jesus, Lee! You’re kinda putting us in a shitty situation.”

Lee shrugged. “It is what it is, Harper.”

Miller was still shaking his head, his eyes wide. “Naw, man. That place is gonna be crawling with crazies. I heard about towns and cities. Everyone that’s come through one of them barely made it out alive. It’s a bad idea...bad idea...nope...baaa-ad idea.”

“
You don’t have to go.” Lee repeated himself.

“
This is bullshit,” Doc put in. “If you go, you’re going to die and we’re fucked. If we all go, we’re all going to die and then Camp Ryder is fucked.
” He crossed his arms stiffly.
“
This is a horrible idea.”

“
Fellas,” Lee spoke with
quiet command
. “I’m not asking permission from any of you to do my job. It’s gonna happen. I’m not gonna turn anyone down that wants to help me, but I won’t hold it against you if you just want to get back to Camp Ryder.”

They were all silent.

Lee rubbed his head. His hair was clean and sweat-free for the first time in what felt like ages. “You don’t have to decide now, but just know what’s coming so you can make your decision. Okay?” When they remained silent, Lee nodded towards the door. “Now go get some sleep.”

The filed out of the storage room and Lee was alone again.

He walked to the far corner of the room where a floor locker sat against the wall. This was his personal locker. The weapons and gear that had been stocked for the survivors was generic, fresh from the factory. In each of Lee’s bunkers he had put in a personal locker that contained a set of his customized gear
, set up the way he preferred
.

He opened the top of the locker and looked down. At the bottom of the locker was a long black case—that would be his M4, identical to the one he’d lost in the fighting at Timber Creek. On top of that gun case was a tan tactical vest, with pouches for twelve M4 magazines. On each side were additional pouches, one for 40mm grenades, and one for
standard M67 grenades.

Lee pulled the hefty vest out—the damn thing weighed almost twenty pounds—then pulled the black rifle case out and opened it. He stared down at his rifle with a faint, loving smile on his face. He picked the rifle up, felt the confidence-inspiring heft of it in his arms.

“
I’ve missed you, baby girl.” Lee held the rifle like you might a long-lost lover. It was an M4 carbine variant of the M16, with an M203 grenade launcher under the barrel and an Aimpoint red-dot scope mounted on top. He’d pain
ted
the entire thing in a desert tan. The rifle had not been used after the painting and it still smelled fresh, the paint
unmarred by the chips and dings of daily use
.

He pulled a soft case out that contained thirteen fully-loaded magazines, which he slipped into the pouches on the plate carrier and put one in his M4. He pulled the charging handle back and let it go, feeling that satisfying slide of lubricated metal-on-metal, slamming a fresh, live cartridge home.

He was just putting the rifle case and vest back in the locker when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He turned to find Father Jim standing in the doorway of the storage room. Lee gave the man a polite wave with one hand, then finished putting the vest and rifle case back into the locker. “
Come on in,
Father
.
H
ow are your people?”

“
Very good, thanks to you.”

Lee smiled at the priest. “Well, I couldn’t exactly tell a man of God ‘no.’”

“
Really?” Father Jim looked surprised. “You didn’t strike me as
the religious type
.”

Inwardly, Lee cringed. Was this guy
going to start
evangelizing? Outwardly he kept a look of neutrality on his face while he considered his answer. “I believe I have a mission. Whether that mission is ordained by God, I don’t know.
But I have to do it regardless.
”

“
Relax, Captain.” Father Jim had a welcoming grin. “I’m not going to start preaching the gospel to you. I imagine you’ve heard what there is to hear and have already decided whether or not to believe
it
. I highly doubt I’m going to be the one to sway you in either direction.”

Lee had to appreciate the man’s candor, and allowed a small smile to creep onto his face
. He motioned towards
a
folding chair against the wall. “Take a load off, Father.”

“
Thank you.” He sat down with a sigh of relief. “You don’t realize how much you miss chairs until you go without them for a month. What a wonderful invention.”

Lee pulled another folding chair off the wall so that they could face each other. He took a seat, laying the M4 across his lap. “Have you made a decision yet?”

Father Jim stretched his legs out and adjusted his glasses. “There’s still some discussion to be had.”

“
I understand.”

“
Can I ask you a question, Captain Harden?”

Lee leaned back in his chair. “Sure.”

He motioned to the walls of supplies that surrounded them. “Where did all of this come from?”

Lee told him what there was to tell. There was really no point in being coy at this point in the game, since Father Jim was sitting in his bunker, looking at his supplies in person. He told him about Project Hometown and the coordinators in each state, the ten bunkers situated around North Carolina, and his mission to reestablish order in the region. He told him about Sam and Angela and Abby, and about Jack Burnsides, who died fighting Milo’s men, already sick with FURY. He told him about Timber Creek, Camp Ryder, and the decision to send them out to this bunker and bring back proof that Lee was in fact who he said he was.

All the while Father Jim listened, his chin resting on his hands, one finger pressed against his pursed lips, his eyes watching the expressions on Lee’s face as the story unfolded. And when Lee was done, Father Jim’s eyebrows raised. “Well, it sounds like you’ve had a rough time of it.”

Lee shrugged. “I could say the same about your group.”

Father Jim nodded, then took a moment to consider his words before speaking again. “
There’s a story about a man, d
uring the floods in New Orleans, who took refuge on his roof from the rising water. He was a devout Christian man, so once he was on his roof, he prayed to God to save him. Shortly after that, a man in a boat rowed up to the man’s roof and said ‘Come on, get in! I can row us to safety!’ But the man said ‘No, I trust in the Lord, and I know that he will save me.’ So the man in the boat rowed off. And the man on the roof continued to pray, ‘Lord, please save my life.’

“
Shortly after he prayed this second time, a rescue helicopter hovered over the house and a man was lowered down in a harness, and he said, ‘Quick! Take my hand! We can fly you to safety!’ But the man on the roof just shook his head and said, ‘No, I trust in the Lord, and I know that he will save me.’ So the man and the helicopter flew off. And the man continued to pray, but the water kept rising, and eventually it overtook the man on the roof, and he drowned.

“
When he got to Heaven, he asked God, ‘Why didn’t you save me? I trusted in you and I prayed for you to save me, but you didn’t!’ And God looked at him and said, ‘But I
did
try to save you. I sent you a boat, and I sent you a helicopter.’”

Father Jim looked over the rims of his glasses at Lee. “Usually I tell that story to people who fail to see the hand of God extended out to them, just like the man on the roof. But in some cases I tell it to the man in the boat and the man in the helicopter, who fail to realize that they
are
the hand of God.”

Father Jim didn’t wait for Lee to argue or respond, he simply stood and patted Lee on the knee. “The wonderful thing about God is that he can use you whether you want him to or not.”

The priest walked out, leaving Lee to his thoughts.

***

They woke early in the morning and began packing.

Prior to going topside, Lee checked the cameras that monitored the outside of the bunker to make sure there were no unwanted guests that had come upon the tents and pickup truck during the night. All appeared to be as deserted as they had left it.

To be cautious, Lee gave Harper an M4 from the enormous gun locker in the supply room and the two men went topside to investigate. It was warm and humid outside. It smelled mostly of rank ash from the burning bodies the night before that still smoldered in a pit of burnt twigs and branches. The two of them checked around and inside the tents, and inside the truck as well. Nothing had been moved, nothing had been tampered with. Nothing attacked them as they were making their rounds.