Lamp Black: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 2) (55 page)

A few individuals looked at Pete, but none seemed interested in talking to him. And when he touched a shoulder of a passing person, they would flinch in surprise and shy away. One older woman even pointed at Pete’s pistol and started to cry. Pete didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t like it. These people were way too despondent, way too forgotten to be like zombies this early into the disaster.

He also noticed some people were entirely covered in ash, as if they had been walking in it for hours, but others looked fresher, as if they only just started to walk in it. He studied the fresh zombies for answers and possible intelligence. He desperately wanted clues to what was happening up ahead.

Practically all the people had something over their faces to protect their lungs from the ash, even the little kids. But it was still easy to see their tears, for they cut clean streaks through the ash. It tore Pete up to see so many desperate and helpless people, and it angered him even more when he thought about Fort Hood. The military should be here, helping people in need, not raising its drawbridge. The military could control traffic, provide food, water and medical assistance, and even keep routes open and safe. He was embarrassed for the army.

Pete saw a comfortable break in the zombie procession and dashed across the interstate to the far side. But just as he reached the line of vehicles on the far side, he heard someone shout, “Excuse me! Sergeant Major?” He turned, hand on his pistol, and saw three young men jogging excitedly towards him. Pete allowed his hand to rest on the pistol, but the three men didn’t seem to notice, or care. They approached confidently, and walked the last few feet to stop in front of him.

“Can I help you men?” asked Pete, in a formal and commanding tone he used while on active duty.

“See guys, I told you he was a sergeant major,” said the lead man. He looked at Pete and said, “I saw your rank and knew it was too much black to be anything but a senior NCO.” The man’s voice came from behind a white t-shirt that was stretched tight over his face. Two half-dollar sized holes were torn into the fabric for his eyes. Pete couldn’t tell how old he was, but he sounded young, like he was in his twenties. He was only lightly covered in ash, which was mostly on his pants. It told Pete he hadn’t been walking in the ash for long. His two companions’ faces were covered in like manner, and they also looked like they just started their walk. With their t-shirts stretched tightly over their faces, the three men looked a little like ghosts. Pete liked the effect, and he liked the men immediately, partly because they were Soldiers, but also because they were well mannered and confident.

“What can I do for you, gentlemen?” asked Pete.

“Well, Sergeant Major . . .”

“Call me Pete, boys. I’m retired now.”

The leader looked at his friends and returned his attention to Pete once again. “But you’re still a sergeant major, right? Even though you’re retired,” asked the young man.

“That I am,” replied Pete. “I just want you boys to know that I’m not on active duty. And if you’re Soldiers, which I think you are, then I’m not responsible for your conduct.”

“We understand,” said the leader, “but it looks like you’re up to something.” And after a short pause, and a glance at his friends, he added, “And we want in.”

Pete said, “Hmm. I see. And are you guys headed for Hood?”

“We were,” said the leader. Their three heads nodding in unison. The young man to the right of the leader said, “We were at a wedding when the eruption occurred, and now we’re trying to make it back to our unit.”

“Well then,” said Pete. “I’d say introductions are in order. What are your names?”

The leader said, “I’m Sergeant Collins, third platoon, Alpha Company, 2-5 Cav. This is Corporal Hester, from the same unit,” he said with a thumb gesture to his right. “And this is PFC Fisher, also from Alpha, 2-5, but he’s in second platoon.”

“You guys are infantry then?” asked Pete.

“Mech Infantry, Sergeant Major,” replied Collins. Pete knew it wasn’t as much a correction as a description. They were still grunts, which means they could come in handy, at least from an intelligence perspective.

“Do you guys have a few minutes? I’d like to pick your brains,” asked Pete.

“Sure thing,” said Collins.

“Then follow me,” said Pete. He led the men over the last cable barrier, across the more heavily trafficked western frontage road, and then up a short incline, and into a small stand of cedar and oak trees. Pete didn’t stop until they were out of sight from the freeway. He sat under an oak and invited the men to join him. “Are you guys thirsty or hungry?” asked Pete.

They replied in unison with a hearty “affirmative.”

Pete opened his pack and fished out three energy bars and two bottles of water. “You boys mind sharing that water, it’s all I have with me?”

“Not at all, Sergeant Major. We really appreciate it,” replied Collins.

“I wish I could offer you more,” said Pete, as he watched the men eat the power bars with haste.

“We appreciate it, Sergeant Major, we really do. Thank you,” said Hester, as he held up his wrapper.

“Yes, thank you very much, Sergeant Major,” said Fisher.

“Look guys, can you please try to call me Pete? I’m serious.”

Collins looked at his comrades and turned back to Pete. “We’ll call you Pete if you like . . . Pete, but sergeant major may slip out from time to time,” answered Collins.

“I’m fine with that. So, tell me what’s going on back there?” asked Pete as he pointed north, toward the overpass.

“It’s some kind of shakedown,” replied Collins.

“There’s a group of men taking stuff from everyone passing through, and there are dead people hanging from the overpass.” said Fisher.

“I got this, Fish. Hold your water,” said Collins. “What Fisher says is true. There are armed men above and under the overpass. They’ve made traffic control barriers out of vehicles, and they’re searching everyone, and taking whatever they want. It looked to me like they were mostly interested in food and weapons, but they’re also taking money, jewelry, and anything else they like.”

“Tell him about the woman,” said Hester.

“I said I got this, didn’t I? Now give me a chance to finish,” said Collins. Pete noticed how the young sergeant expertly managed his frustration, and he was impressed. He could see why the other two men continued to follow him when they were off duty.

“You were saying, Sergeant Collins?” said Pete.

“I was about to say they also seem to be collecting women. I saw them pull a woman from the line and drag her away, and when her man tried to stop them . . . they shot him down,” said Collins.

“OK, can you give me a full account? Start from before you reached the checkpoint, and give me all the details you can unless I stop you.”

Collins nodded and said, “Well, it’s like this, we were at a friend’s wedding in Topeka when the CQ called and said we had to get our butts back to Hood, ASAP.”

“Was that before or after the eruption?” asked Pete.

“I think just before, but I don’t remember when the eruption occurred, so it could have been after,” answered Collins. “But it was before the ash started to fall.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” said Pete. “Please continue.”

“It’s OK, Sergeant . . . I mean, Pete. Anyway, my car died about three miles up the road, so we grabbed our bags and started walking. There were so many broken down cars on the side of the road that I wasn’t surprised when mine finally died. I tried knocking the ash off the air filter, but it wouldn’t start, so we joined the crowd walking south. We stayed on the freeway because it was better footing, not as much ash to walk through, but the cars and trucks that passed sure kicked up a lot of ash. We stayed to the right as much as possible. We made these facemasks out of our t-shirts . . . to protect our mouth and nose from the ash.”

“Smart move,” said Pete.

Collins nodded and continued. “We got to the spot where the vehicles were leaving the freeway, which was, oh, about two miles from the overpass. It must have caused some traffic problems because a lot of people were walking along the side of the road where the cars were exiting. We saw two bodies lying under ash near the off ramp. We figured they were hit by cars. But by the time we reached the off-ramp, the traffic was barely moving. In fact, we were moving faster than the cars, so we just stayed on the side of the freeway. I’m guessing the traffic is backed up for several miles now.

A few minutes’ later people stopped walking and just stood around. We were close enough to see the overpass in front of us, and there were lights up ahead, a bonfire and car headlights, but we couldn’t tell what
was going on. We decided to walk up the embankment and bypass the crowd, maybe walk along the frontage road, but as soon as we crested the embankment, some guy with an AK-47. . .”

“It was an SKS,” said Hester.

“The same thing,” said Collins

“No Sarge . . . not the same,” replied Hester.

Collins rolled his eyes and said, “Close enough. So when we reached the top of the embankment this guy with an SKS,” said Collins, with special emphasis on SKS as he turned to glare at Hester, “told us to turn around and go back down to the road, or get shot.”

Collins took a drink from his water bottle and passed it to Hester. He wiped his mouth and continued. “Well, about forty-five minutes later we were close enough to see what the hold-up was. There were five guys shaking everybody down. They were armed with an assortment of weapons, and they were checking everyone, making people dump out their pockets and bags, and taking all their cash, watches, and jewelry. But what pissed me off the most was that two of the men were cops.”

“At least dressed like cops,” corrected Pete.

Collins looked at Pete and said, “Right . . . dressed like cops.”

“Did you see a police car?” asked Pete.

“Not from where we were,” replied Collins.

“Sorry. Please continue,” said Pete.

“Right. Anyway, if they were cops, they sure weren’t acting like it. They were pushing and shoving people around, sticking guns in their faces, and threatening to shoot anyone who caused problems. They even, um . . .”

“Even what?” Pete asked.

“They were being very rude to women!”

“Rude? What do you mean, rude?” asked Pete, confused by the young man’s choice of words.

“What Sergeant Collins is trying to say,” said Hester, “Is that they were molesting them. They were grabbing their boobs, sometimes
even tearing their tops open. It was like they were inspecting them or something. We saw one man pull a woman out of the crowd, and when her man tried to stop them, he was shot. They dragged her up the embankment on the other side of the freeway, but I don’t know what they did to her,” finished Hester.

“I’m thinking the guys they hung from the overpass were people who tried to resist them. The whole thing was bad news,” said Collins. “Very bad news.”

“How many people were hanging from the overpass?” asked Pete.

“Three . . . on the north side. I didn’t see anyone hanging from the south side. And they were hanging low, low enough that I could touch their feet as I passed.” Collins looked hard at Pete and said, “We’ve all seen death before, but that was sick. A lot of the folks in line were crying and shaking. It really messed with their minds . . . to see those bodies.”

“I’m guessing that’s the effect they wanted to achieve,” replied Pete. He could see how combat strengthened the young men, but he also saw how the scene affected them. Pete wondered, for the first time since meeting the men, if they’d be willing to help him eliminate the highwaymen.

“So when we reached the guys at the roadblock . . .”

“They’re more like pirates. Call them, highwaymen,” offered Pete.

“Yeah, that works for me,” said Collins. “When we reached the highwaymen we dropped our bags to the ground and handed them our wallets. It’s all we had. We didn’t even have a single knife with us. Two men searched our bags, and this big guy, he must have been six-seven or six-eight, and at least 350 pounds, walked over to us with our ID cards in his hand. He looked us up and down and say’s . . .” And Collins changed his voice in an effort to mimic the man, “You boys wanna join my army?” Then, switching back to his normal voice, he continued, “I almost laughed, which I’m positive would have gotten me shot, but I managed to turn it into a cough. I told him we were army cooks, and that we had no combat experience. He asked why
we were traveling together, and I told him the truth, that we were at a wedding. He threw our ID cards at us and turned and walked away. I’m pretty sure he was the leader.”

“That was smart of you,” said Pete, “to say you were cooks and that you didn’t have combat experience. But you and I both know cooks see combat too.”

“I know that, but he didn’t,” replied Collins with a smile.

“OK, let me see if I got this straight. You saw six men, all armed. Did they have side arms?”

“Some did, some didn’t, but it’s not hard to hide a pistol,” said Collins.

“You’re right about that,” replied Pete. “They’re taking hostages, and illuminating the area with wood fires and vehicle lights. They’re shaking down vehicles on both sides of the freeway, so that means there’s probably five guys at each end of the overpass, and probably a few more guarding their loot. Does that sound about right?” asked Pete, as he studied the three young men through their t-shirt masks.

Collins looked shrewdly at Pete and said, “We’re in, Sergeant Major.”

Pete realized he wasn’t hiding his intentions very well. He looked at Collins and saw the intent in the young man’s eyes. He wanted to tell him to keep walking, but he actually needed their help. There was no way he could neutralize such a large enemy force by himself. “I don’t want to put you guys in any danger.”

“We’re in.”

“It will get ugly.”

“Look, Sergeant Major, we’re in. We want to help you get rid of those scumbags, those highwaymen. This is America, not Iraq or Afghanistan. They need to be taken out,” said Collins.

“Our chance of success is not very high,” said Pete, in one last effort to dissuade them.