Charlie's Requiem: Democide (35 page)

“Dad?” Claire said, prompting Kramer to sit in front of the mic again.

“What is it, Bug?” He replied.

“I don’t know how to say this, but something’s not right here.”

“How so? You mean other than no power, lights or cars?” He replied, attempting to lighten his daughter’s mood.

“NO!” she replied laughingly. “But something’s going wrong at the hospital. My patients are disappearing and I don’t know where the government is taking them.”

“Hold on there!” Vernon said, pushing Kramer out of the way. He depressed the “send” bar on the microphone and spoke.

“Slackjaw. Switch now!” He commanded to the other man.

Kramer watched as Bragg tuned the radio to another channel and connected up with the other side on the new frequency.

“Wer good fer one more minute,” Bragg said. “Then wer’ done.”

“But...” Kramer started to protest.

“Trust me, doc. If’in she says what I think she’s gonna say, we gotta be careful. Time’s up. You’ll see.”

Bragg backed away from the table.

“Go ahead, doc. I think yer need to hear this.”

“Bug, I’m here.”

“Dad,” she started. “DHS is taking away my patients, at least the ones on dialysis. They say they’re putting them in a better facility, but Vanderbilt is the best facility. There’s nowhere else to take them that’s better than here.”

“Are you sure?” Kramer asked back. “They could have an extended living facility or some other place for them. Or they might need the beds for acute cases.”

“That could be true if we had acute cases coming in. But we don’t. The only patients we are seeing are government workers and their families. I haven’t seen a kidney patient in two weeks, so I’ve been in the emergency room sewing up gunshot wounds.”

“What about other facilities?”

“There aren’t any,” she replied. “At least none in Nashville. We’re the only hospital or other healthcare facility with power. Dialysis machines need electricity, dad. This just doesn’t make sense. What should I do? I feel like I need to ask someone.”

Vernon grabbed Kramer’s hand before the doctor could depress the bar.

“Don’t let her do nothin’ like that.” He pleaded. “Tell her to lay low until you talk again.”

Kramer recognized good advice when he heard it. He depressed the bar and spoke.

“Bug, don’t say a word. I’m going to set up another session soon. I’ll look into it on this end.”

“OK, daddy. I’ll be quiet about it.”

“Keep your nose clean, Bug. I’ll get back to you soon.”

“I love you!” Claire said back. The three Kramers, huddled around the microphone, all replied back as Gerry depressed the bar one last time.

“We love you!” They all chimed back. And with that, she was gone.

Barb wiped her eyes, drying the tears that had collected during their conversation. Caroline quietly moved to a couch and silently sat down.

Kramer continued to stare at the radio gear as Bragg shut down the power to the HF ham radio.

“Doc,” He started. “There’s bad things a happenin’ out there. I’m hearing about people disappearin’ whenever I get someone stateside on the radio. Sometimes I just listen and they all say the same thing. Old people, sick people and a lot of prisoners are vanishin’.”

“But why?” Kramer asked, genuinely confused.

“I think that’s somethin’ yer needs ta find out. I got my ideas, but yer gotta find out fer yerself.”

The Kramers and Ed thanked Vernon for what he had done, both Barb and Caroline giving the crusty old man a hug and kiss on the cheek. Bragg, genuinely moved, blushed at the attention.

“Yer too kind to ol’ Vernon.” He shyly said.

“And doc,” He added. “I sure hope yer find out what’s happenin’ ta all them people.”

“You know, don’t you?” Kramer asked.

“Yeah, ol’ Vernon knows. But yer wouldn’t believe me if’in I tol’ ya. Ya gotta find out fer yerself. Maybe you kin help, and maybe not. But the only advice I kin give ya is this. Don’t stick yer neck out fer the feds. They got their plans, an if’in ya ain’t part of them, yer not needed. And ya don’t wanna not be needed with this bunch. Believe me.”

“You know,” Ed said as he listened to the conversation. “I don’t think you’re so crazy after all.”

Bragg snorted at Grafton’s remark.

“I ain’t crazy,” Bragg said. “But it helps if people think I am. I’ve seen too much from this government to trust ‘em and I don’t want to stand out when they come lookin’ for those that don’t fit in or may be a liability when they take control.”

Kramer did a double take, listening to Bragg suddenly become much more cogent as he explained his lifestyle choices.

“You old coot!” Kramer said to the retired Marine. “You’ve got a lot more going on inside that head of yours than you let on.”

“Now doc,” Bradford said with a grin. “I ain’t knowin’ what yer talkin’ about. Yer all have a nice night!”

The four of them returned to their houses, both joyful their daughter was alive and well taken care of, but fearful at what she had warned them about.

“What are you going to do?” Barb asked her husband.

“I’m going into town tomorrow,” Kramer immediately replied. “I’ll visit the rabbi and check in with Rick Chase. If anyone can tell me what’s happening with these people, he would know.”

Barb heard the determination in her husband’s voice and decided not to try and dissuade him from his mission.

“Who are you going with?” She asked as they pulled down their street.

“I’d take either Will or Trey,” Ed interjected. “They’d be my choice.”

“I agree!” Barb added before Kramer could reply.

Both Trey and Will had proven themselves and had military experience, although neither was a “ground pounder” in the purest sense. Both were from a Combat Logistics Battalion that was responsible for the machines that transported the Marines and the maintenance of said equipment and vehicles. They essentially drove and maintained the trucks and other fighting vehicles that the Corps used to get their men into the fight. But because they were Marines, they were trained riflemen and were expected to fight with the rest of their brothers.

“Alright,” Kramer quickly replied. “Let’s ask Trey if he’d accompany me.”

After arriving home, Trey readily agreed to escort Dr. Kramer into town.

“If I may make a suggestion,” Trey asked. “I think we should take the buggy into town. I like the off road options it provides.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Ed replied. “How about you?”

“Sounds like fun,” Kramer readily agreed. “I’ve been dying to ride in that thing anyway.”

“But what if someone starts shooting at you? There aren’t any doors on it!” Barb asked with concern.

“I hate to break this to you,” Trey replied. “But doors on a car don’t stop a bullet.”

“But,” Barb shot back. “Every movie I’ve seen…”

“Is wrong!” Trey replied before she could finish her sentence. “The bullets out of just about any battle rifle cut thorough the sheet metal like it wasn’t there. Our best defense is not being seen or being able to go where the bad guys can’t. The buggy can take us where cars can’t go. That’s our best chance.”

“Don’t worry.” Kramer said, immediately regretting his words as he saw the look on his wife’s face.

“Let me rephrase that,” Gerry said calmly. “Don’t be too worried. I’ll be careful and Trey here knows how to use that rifle.”

“Ma’am,” Trey added. “I’ll bring him back in one piece. I know what I’m doing. My Military Occupational Specialty was transportation and I’m good at what I do. I promise, I’ve been trained to handle far worse situations. We’ll be fine.”

Barb seemed to calm down with that, and nodded. She gave Trey her patented look of, “You Better, Mister!” She then turned back to her kitchen to shut down the power and conserve their batteries for the night.

“Tomorrow, at dawn.” Gerry said.

“I’ll pick you up!” Trey replied and winked.

The next morning, Kramer heard the purr of a vehicle as it pulled up to the front door.

“That sounds different,” Kramer said as he came outside.

Trey had exited the buggy and stood by the passenger’s side of the vehicle.

“Rob and I put some better sound-suppression mufflers on the buggy,” Trey replied. “It’s a lot quieter now, and we want stealth today.”

“Well, thank Rob,” Kramer replied.

“I will,” Trey said without bragging. “We did this in the military with one of our Fast Attack Vehicles.”

“Well, whatever the reason, let’s go,” Kramer said as he started to swing his leg up and over the metal frame of the buggy into the passenger seat.

“No sir, you drive.” Trey said. “You know the way there, and I need my hands free if I need to return fire. Besides, you look like you’ve been itching to drive this bad boy!”

Kramer’s face beamed as he quickly walked to the other side of the vehicle.

Driving an open air vehicle like this was an experience Kramer would never forget. Convertibles had their own charm, especially in the winter months in Florida where the night temperatures were in the 50’s. But having no metal or plastic surrounding them made the ride feel like he was driving a giant motorcycle. It was exhilarating.

They drove without incident into town, passing through the Academy and taking old Highway 50 to their first destination, the Clermont Congregational Shalom. Although the synagogue was in a strip mall, there was a chance that Rabbi Vetter would be there. Knowing his spiritual leader, Vetter would be at the church or he would leave a note for his congregation on where to find him.

Old Highway 50 ended on one of Florida’s major north/south arteries, Highway 27. The strip mall that the congregation rented space from was on this road, so they had no option other than to deal with the risk of detection if they wanted to find the rabbi.

The strip mall was three blocks north of the Old 50 and 27 intersection, and within a minute, they were pulling in front of the storefront house of worship.

All of the glass doors had been smashed in, and anti-Semitic graffiti had been spray-painted on the beige-colored walls outside the congregation’s front door.

Trey leapt from the vehicle to check the front entrance, then quickly returned to the buggy, effortlessly jumping into the passenger’s seat.

“Says he’s at the hospital,” Trey said with disgust as he looked at the defaced storefront wall.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kramer said, sensing his friend’s disapproval. “It doesn’t mean a thing.”

“I don’t think so,” Trey shot back. “And it isn’t because I’m black. I spent time in the sandbox, fighting Haji and his hard-on for Israel. That,” he said, pointing at the hateful words on the wall, “Is why I fought. I hated those racist pricks; and now they’re here?”

“They always have been here,” Kramer sadly replied. “I treated them in the hospital and at my office all the time, although their numbers are fewer than before. You just have to ignore it and accept that they’re the ones who have the problem.”

“Well doc, let me tell you one thing. If I ever run across any of them,
they
WILL have a problem!”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute,” Kramer smiled in reply.

Returning the way they came, Kramer navigated old Highway 50 and wound his way to Citrus Tower Boulevard, turning right to go to the local hospital. Citrus Tower Boulevard was so-named because of the old tourist attraction that sits at the north end of the road. Built in the mid 1950’s on one of the highest points in Florida, the Florida Citrus Tower rises another 250 feet above the hill it’s built on, giving the tourists of the time a 360° view of the surrounding orange groves, along with the city of Orlando that sits about 35 miles to the east.

As Kramer approached South Lake Hospital, Trey directed him into the abandoned parking lot of a pediatric office. Pulling behind the building, they left the buggy tucked against the back of the structure. Trey reached into the open engine compartment and detached a wire from a piece of equipment. Taking the other end of the cable, he removed it and stashed it in his military vest.

“No one can drive this thing unless they have a spare coil wire in their pocket!” Trey said with some satisfaction.

“Whatever you say,” Kramer smirked, not knowing what Trey was talking about.

“Just follow my lead and stay behind me,” Trey shot back with a grin. “Just tell me where the best point of entry will be.”

The two of them moved through the lot and up a small hill that separated the clinic from the back of the hospital. As they snuck up to the crest of the ridge, they peered over the edge and noted the presence of several military vehicles parked in the back. Watching for a few minutes convinced the two men that no one was in either the HUMMVEE or Stryker, but both knew that DHS was lurking within.

“I’m stuck,” Trey finally said. “It’s a risk going in there. What do you think?”

Kramer dropped a small canvas grocery bag to the ground he had been carrying and pulled out two white lab coats. “Dr. Kramer” was stenciled to one jacket, while the other was without a name.

“I thought we might need these,” Kramer said as he handed Trey the jacket with his name on it.

“Take mine,” Kramer said. “If they challenge me, I can talk my way through it. You’ll have a better chance of getting by with something stenciled on the front.”

Donning both coats, Trey was at a loss as to what to do with his rifle.

“That won’t work,” Kramer said as Trey tried to hide the slung rifle under the lab coat. “I can see the outline through the coat. You’ll have to ditch it if you want to come in.”

Seeing a stand of tall grass nearby, Trey hid the rifle amongst the foliage and they returned to the crest of the hill.

“All I have is my Glock,” Trey said with some trepidation. “I hope we don’t need my rifle in there.”

“No worries,” Kramer replied. “You’re in my territory now.”

After ensuring that no one was around, they climbed over the crest of the hill and walked to the rear of the hospital. The loading docks for the structure were to their left, and some voices could be heard coming from there.

“Fortune favors the bold,” Kramer said as he turned the corner and approached the loading dock stairs.

“HEY!” Came a challenge from a soldier who was sitting on the edge of the concrete platform.

Kramer walked right up to the man, acting like he belonged there. Like most good poker players, Kramer took the initiative and bluffed like his life depended on it.

“Sorry,” Kramer said. “We went out for some air and figured it was just as quick coming in through here.”

“Who are you?” The agent said. “I don’t see any ID.”

“I’m Doctor Traynor,” Kramer said. “And this is Dr. Kramer. We were in the E.D. with Dr. Chase and stepped out for a moment. We must have left our IDs in there.”