THE TRASHMAN (22 page)

I was beginning to get angry. “Do you think I give a damn? Yeah. I’ll most likely get killed, but maybe I can rid the world of some of them before I do. Christ, man, do you have any idea of how many people have been eradicated from this nation you swore to protect? There aren’t any police, fire department. We survivors can’t call 911. Where’s the rest of the army? Dead is where they are. I’m asking you to give me a fighting chance.”

“Sir, I’d like to help you, but my orders contraindicate that.”

I heard another voice speak in the background. “Let’s help the poor bastard.” Then I heard a click and the hum from the speaker died. I realized Major Allen had switched it off so I couldn’t hear the conversation. After ten minutes, it was switched on long enough for Allen to say, “Please be patient.”

I was patient. The speaker became active a few minutes later.

“Sir, you stated that you were exposed to the virus and survived the plague. We in here are all survivors, too. Please place your weapons onto the pavement ten paces from the door and return. When I open the door, I expect to see your hands clasped on top of your head and every movement you make to be executed slowly, including walking through the door. Am I understood, Sir?”

“I understand completely, Major Allen.” I did as he requested; ten paces from the door I placed the shotgun and the Beretta on the pavement. The .22 was still in the van. I returned to the door and clasped my hands on top of my head.

A man in uniform appeared at the door. I heard him insert the key; the door opened and he stepped away. I saw the pistol he held pointed at me. Another man farther into the room had a wicked looking rifle pointed at my chest.

“You got him, Chester?” the man who’d opened the door asked.

“I’ve got him dead on, Sir. He even twitches without your permission, I’ll run a chain of rounds through him.”

“Thank you, Sergeant.” Then addressing me, “Sir, I want you to strip to your skivvies, shirt first.

They had me strip to my bare feet, leaving me with only my boxers.

“He has the wound he told us about,” the man with the rifle said.

“Thank you, Sergeant. At least that part of his tale is true. Keep him subdued. I’ll gather his weapons and bring his vehicle inside the compound.”

“Toss me your keys, Sir.”

“They’re in the van.”

The sergeant wouldn’t respond to any questions I asked. Major Allen rejoined us.

“Let’s take him to supply and get him dressed. Sir, follow Sergeant Chester. Keep in mind I’m behind you.”

A half hour later I was dressed and booted in Battle Dress Uniform, or as they called them, BDUs. After I was clothed, they led me to a dining area adequate to seat fifty or more. Sergeant Chester went into the huge kitchen to make coffee. Major Allen led the way to a metal dining table. He sat across from me.

“We’ll wait for Carl before we get to any heavy talk. Carl is Chester’s first name. We keep it informal between us, but you can call me Major or Allen if William is too painful.

“William will be fine. We mostly called our son Will.”

“Ralph, I want to say I’m sorry for your loss. Carl and I have lost loved ones, too, and we understand the hurt.”

“I’m sure everyone here has.” I glanced around the dining hall, wondering about the absence of other people, even the lack of cooks. William noticed.

“If you’re looking for other cadre, there aren’t any. Carl and I are the only ones left. There were eighty of us who didn’t abandon our post as the plague event unfolded. We are the only ones who caught the plague and survived.

“There’s something you should know. Another soldier showed up afterwards. He was clear of the plague when he arrived. Ten days later, he started coughing and then he was gone. Me and Carl figure one or both of us are carriers; Typhoid Mary’s if you will. That means the survivors who lived through this because of isolation can be infected by us, probably by you, too.”

That bit of news was a hard blow.

“Thank you for telling me. I’ll have to keep that in mind outside of here. Did you have a family? I’m sorry, that was a stupid way to phrase that. We all have family.”

“You’re asking was I married. I was for twelve years, but divorced ten years ago. We didn’t keep in touch. Thank God we didn’t have children. Carl lost his wife and three children. Let’s avoid the subject when he’s around. It took him a while to come out of a funk and he still has relapses.”

“Married for twelve years and divorced ten? You don’t look old enough. I took you to be in your thirties.”

“Forty-four last Friday. I may not look it, but I feel it. Carl’s thirty-six… Speaking of Carl,” William rose as Carl approached the table holding a carafe of coffee with cups and condiments on a metal tray.

For some reason, reflex I guess, I stood too.

Carl barked a short laugh as he set the tray on the table. “What the fuck, guys? I may be serving, but I’m all man.”

I shook my head and smiled. “I stood because the Major did.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that, William?”

The Major blushed. “Crap, I don’t know. I thought I’d give you a hand, but I see you’ve got it under control.”

Ignoring William’s discomfort, Carl pulled out a chair beside me and sat. “Did William break the news about our numbers?”

I nodded. “He did. I have to say he was very convincing on the speaker. I expected there to be more of you.”

“You’re not the first civilian who thought to grab arms from here. Most of them went away. One group of five came back at night and cut a hole through the fence. We had a shootout that they lost. Didn’t even have to engage our robotics, we took ‘em out ourselves. We placed the bodies in strategic places along the fence line. Their skeletons serve as a warning to others thinking they can do the same.”

William had regained his composure and spoke. “Do you want to know why we let you in?”

“I would, yes.”

“During that little blank space while Carl and I hashed it out, well the subject wasn’t really you. The push of our talk was we wanted to be the ones to go after the Clan. It would be a military action that we’re trained for.

“We’re caught between a rock and a hard spot. Five years ago, this armory became the depository of a huge inventory of weapons and explosives. If we abandon it, I don’t want to think about the type of people that would raid this facility.”

I asked, “What will you ultimately do? I mean you can’t stay here forever. It’d be like being in prison.”

“We do have a plan, and who knows, maybe you can be of service to your country, at least to your fellow man. We’d like to see a community of decent people gather in this town, a populace with humane objectives who want to live in peace with laws to guide them. Those people we would arm to defend themselves.”

I liked the sound of that and told them so. “I think you two are the kind of people the world needs more of. If there’s anything I can do to help, tell me.”

Carl jumped back into the conversation. “Find those people for us. If you meet other wanderers of decent thread, have them send people our way too. We know the pickings are thin out there. The population’s been decimated. This is the reason we let you in. Evil people, individuals, and groups like the Clan are killing the people we want, killing off the decent ones. The fact you want to kill murderers who killed the couple that you didn’t even know tells us the thread you’re made of.”

William said, “Carl is spot on about our opinion of you, but I’m afraid we can’t simply arm you and send you on your way. First, you have to sign up. After that, you will have to go through eight weeks of intensive combat training before we can send you out to fight.”

“You want me to join the Army?”

“The Army National Guard to be exact,” Carl said.

“Either you join up and are trained, or finish your coffee and are on your way. We won’t arm you though if you decide to leave now,” William said.

Carl grinned at me. “Think of it man, like the slogan says, you’ll be an Army of One.”

We finished our coffee and then they swore me in.

*****

After the ceremony, Carl took me to their small medical station and had me remove my shirt and lie on an exam table.

“I’m not a medic, but I’m all you have. Major Allen wouldn’t know a pimple from a boil.” He brought a bottle of peroxide to the table. “Let’s get your wound cleaned so I can see what you’ve got going on.”

He peeled off the front bandage by my navel. For a big man, he had a gentle touch. I barely felt his latex gloves swabbing my skin with peroxide soaked gauze pads. I did feel his fingers begin probing the area of my wound. He noticed me flinch.

“Tender, huh? There’s a pocket of pus building behind the scab. Tell me the complete history of this wound.”

I told him how it would infect and then after lancing it the wound would be better for a while and then re-infect.

“The bullet may have nicked a portion of your intestines. I’m not a surgeon so there’s no way I’m going to open you up. What we can do is drain it again and put you on a stronger regimen of antibiotics. Beyond that all you can do is hope whatever’s causing the infection will heal of its own accord.”

His cleaning was thorough and more painful than my self-treatment. Between my grunts and yelps of pain, while he was working I told him about my theory that I was able to survive the plague because my system was already full of antibiotics. He thought there was an element of plausibility and said he’d relay the information to William.

He tore off a last strip of tape and laid it across the second bandage.

“The exit end of your wound is healing. If the entry point continues to infect, all you can do is drain and clean. Maybe while you’re out, you’ll come across a doctor. Get dressed. The Major’s orders are for you to shower and then sleep until dinner. I’ll show you to your room. Officers’ quarters, private bath, kitchenette, real bed. I’m billeted in one, too.”

I followed him from the medical station. We crossed a small courtyard to a building adjacent to the reception building. The Officers’ Quarters consisted of a large common area complete with a wet bar, pool table, a green card table, and a dartboard. Off to the side was a small dining area. Carl led me to the rear of the recreation room to a door that let into a long hallway. There were ten doors, five to a side.

“The Major’s there,” he said pointing to the first door on the left. “I’m there,” pointing to the door across from William’s. He led me farther down the hall and opened the last door on the left.

“Get settled. I’ll come get you later. Roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy, turnip greens and creamed corn is the menu this evening.

The water from the hot tap was scalding. I adjusted the shower to as warm as I could stand and wallowed in luxury for a half hour.

I had to wipe steam from the mirror to see myself. What I saw was a haggard, middle-aged man with a ragged growth of hair on his face. I was clean, but I looked like I’d aged five years over the past few weeks. I searched the medicine cabinet and the vanity drawers for shaving gear but came up empty.

I lay on the bed and sleep grabbed me like a long lost friend. When Carl tapped on the door to announce dinner, I left the bed feeling fresh and rested.

*****

William ordered three days of rest before beginning my basic training. On the fourth day, Carl rousted me from sleep at 5:00 a.m., shouted at me the entire time I dressed, and had me outside running the inner perimeter of the depot fifteen minutes after my feet touched the tile floor beside my bed.

He ran me until the pain in my side became too heavy. When he saw my hand pressing my wound, he called halt.

“Ralph, I’m going to work you as hard as I can. We’ve got to turn you into a rock. You’re the only one who can call stop if something aggravates your wound. I’ll honor you as long as you give me your best all the way to your pain limit.”

“Work me, Carl. I’m not there yet.” I took off running and he easily caught up and began verbally insulting me again, pushing me on.

After the run, he shifted over to callisthenic type exercises. I stayed with him until the pain in my side was as much as I could stand and then gave him another five minutes. When I called stop, he saw I was in pain.

“Hit the shower. Hot. When you get out, do some stretches. We breakfast in one hour, and then class. Lunch, and then it’s back out here for as long as you can take it. I’m going to go slack on you for the next two weeks and order you to take a hot shower after every physical session. Remember to do your stretching.”

Carl and I dined alone. “Where’s William?” I asked.

“Control room. We have listening devices and surveillance cameras every thirty feet of the fence. We don’t want to arm the robotic weapons except as a last resort. We both have nightmares thinking the machine will gun down a bunch of women or children. William and I do twelve-hour shifts at the monitors. For your training period, we’ll modify our schedules as needed. I’ll relieve him and he’ll be you instructor for the rest of the morning and this afternoon. After dinner you and I will be back outside.”

I waited in the dining hall while Carl went to relieve William. I was startled to see how tired the Major looked.

“Carl said he gave you a good workout. You ready for some class work?”

“I am.”

“You’re in the Army, private. That’s, ‘I am,
Sir
.’”

Startled by his demeanor, I snapped to attention and shouted as I’d seen in movies. “I am, Sir.”

William burst out laughing. “’Got you!’ As I told you, we’ll keep it informal, but don’t forget you took an oath. I’m in charge and by proxy, Carl owns your ass, too. Keep that in mind, if you will. Now, soldier, get down and give me ten.”

I knew what he meant. I lowered to the floor and gave him my best ten pushups.

“Christ that was sloppy. Are you going to blame your lousy effort on your wound, soldier?”

“No, I’m not. I blame it on being weak, but I’ll get stronger.”

William grinned. “Carl’ll see to that. To begin with, your classes will be given in my quarters. Basic stuff, Army regulations and such. From there we’ll move to military tactics and weapons training.