Unthinkable (Berger Series) (9 page)

“Where are they taking her,” pressed Evan.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” The person turned back around as the line shuffled forward again as if nothing had happened.

Evan shook his head. That wasn’t right. But, he supposed, it was only natural to fear disease with this many people jammed together. It was surprising how quickly the soldiers had responded. Since leaving the gate they hadn’t seen very many uniforms, just masses of humanity.

They reached the front of the line and each got a bowl of some sort of stew. Looking at the meat floating in it Evan had the distinct feeling that he didn’t want to know what it was. He took his bowl and sat down in an empty space a few yards from the tent. Damien sat next to him.

“Where are you from?” asked a stranger as he took a seat next to them. “Haven’t seen you ‘round here before.”

“St. Louis,” answered Evan, poking at the chunks.

“How is it there?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t there when it happened. Lucky enough to be on the road.”

“Ah, just passing through our fine city?”

“Yeah. Family in Wyoming.” Evan looked over at the stranger. “Say, do you know if anyone has seen a Japanese looking guy with a limp around here?”

“I know I haven’t. And you aren’t getting to Wyoming. This place is locked tight.
For our safety of course.” The stranger slurped his stew.

“They took my stuff,” grumbled Damien.

“Of course they did,” the stranger wiped his mouth. “Why do you need anything when good old Uncle Sam will take care of all your needs?” The man smiled bitterly and stood up. He dropped his bowl in the bin by the mess tent and disappeared.

Evan looked at Damien. “We’re in trouble.”

“Yep,” said Damien. They quickly finished their meal and threw the bowls into the bin. “Where to next?” asked Evan.

Damien shrugged. It was starting to get dark, so Evan just picked a direction away from the military center and started walking. He was aware of Damien just behind him and felt comforted by his presence. Who knew what would happen in a place like this? At least someone had his back. Evan felt a pang of guilt thinking about Yoshi. Well if he was here it would take a miracle to find him. There were a few hostile looks his way, but most people ignored them. A few children tried to play, watched closely by adults. If they got too close to any strangers they were quickly herded back and scolded. This wasn’t America, thought
Evan, this was a refugee camp in a third world country.

After what felt like an hour Evan saw the wire that marked the edge of the camp. After seeing nearly all civilians here at last were soldiers. Some looked out; more looked back in. One of them spotted Evan and Damien as they approached the wire. He pointedly raised his rifle.
Evan halted and stared at the fence. There were lights in the guard towers illuminating the fence. Beyond those bright lights it was dark, as if this was the only civilization left in the world. Before the fence was part of a ditch with shovels left in it, ready for the next day’s work. Evan felt Damien standing half a step behind him as the soldier that had raised his rifle approached them.

“No civilians here unless you’re assigned to the ditch detail,” he said.

“We just got here,” said Evan, thinking fast, “and this is where they told us to go.”

The soldier looked them up and down.
“Fine. Report over there.” He pointed to large tent near the end of the ditch. Evan nodded in acknowledgment and started walking.

“What are you doing?” asked Damien, pulling on Evan’s arm.

“It’s a place to sleep, isn’t it?” Evan pulled himself free.

Evan and Damien walked into the tent. A dozen eyes turned to look at them as they entered. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness Evan saw that there were maybe two dozen cots set up, with more than half occupied. Looking at the men in here Evan was aware of just how small he was in comparison. Most of these men looked hard. Evan quietly walked over to what appeared to be an unoccupied cot. Damien took the one next to him. The men returned to their conversations.

A tall blond man made his way over. “Paul Osgood,” he said, offering his hand.

“Evan Berger,” Evan shook it.

Paul looked to Damien. “Damien,” he said slowly.

“New arrivals I take it?” asked Paul.

“Yeah,” said Evan.

“And already assigned ditch duty? What’d they do, catch you looting?
Naw,” he corrected himself, “if they’d caught you looting you’d be dead.”

“Really?” asked Evan.

“Yeah. Can’t have an unruly element out there or in here. That’s why they assign us to work out our energy on digging this ditch. They want one around the whole perimeter, I guess to make folks think twice of going for the fence.”

“Wouldn’t the guards make people think twice of going for the fence?” asked Damien.

“Maybe,” said Paul. “Between you and me I think most of ‘em are weekend warriors who got called to duty in this time of crisis. But if you’re gonna dig you might want to go ahead and sack out. They wake us up pretty early.” Paul walked away and climbed into a cot a short ways down. Evan noticed most of the men now were climbing into bed.

“What are we doing?” whispered Damien.

“I don’t know,” Evan whispered back. “But let’s just go with it.”

Chapter 8

Evan tossed and turned, troubled by dreams and memories.
Sad eyes. Shelly. Violence and pain. As he woke up for umpteenth time he wished for something strong to drink. Finally a bell rang at dawn. Evan stretched, feeling like he’d hardly slept. Damien watched him as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Couldn’t sleep couldja?” asked Damien.

“Not so great,
no,” admitted Evan.

Damien nodded. “Me either.
We sticking around?”

Evan opened his mouth to speak but a soldier came in just then idly swinging a baton and ordering everyone out. The men around them grumbled and shuffled their way out of the tent. Evan joined the line, sticking close by Paul. Damien stuck close by Evan. Paul didn’t speak as they followed him. As they walked toward the chow tent Evan looked past the fence. There was a wide expanse of grass and then some buildings further out.

Breakfast was a quick meal of hard oatmeal, then they walked back and slid down into the ditch. Someone handed Evan a shovel and he bent to work, following Paul’s lead. It was hard work; he was sweating already as the sun rose.

They finally broke for lunch late morning. Evan took a swig form a canteen passed around as they made their way to the chow tent
again. He passed it back to Damien. Paul sat next to them as they got their food and found a place to eat on the grass.

“I was not too far from here when it happened,” said Paul, “first I knew anything was going on was when my car stopped in the middle of the road. That must have been
an electromagnetic pulse. It shuts down anything electronic. I got out of my car, same as a lot of other people. Somehow word started filtering through the crowds that there had been some sort of attack. Someone swore that they’d seen a mushroom cloud. I didn’t know if that was true or not but I didn’t want to find out. So I started walking back to my apartment. At first it had been eerily quiet, but by the time I started walking you could hear sirens in the distance. I fortunately wasn’t too far from home. When I got there I found there wasn’t any power and no sign of my roommate. He worked downtown, so I figured he’d be stuck down there. Now I figure he’s probably dead. I stayed inside for most of the day, trying to get anything in on my hand cranked radio, but pretty much all I got was garbled.

‘Then that night I could hear someone pounding on the doors of the apartments. It looked like mostly police, telling us to report to the local high school. I told them I wanted to stay there and they made it quite clear that it was a mandatory evacuation. I turned around to get a few things and I was told there was no room to bring anything but myself. Stupid me, I figured I’d be back in a day or two. Long story short I was crammed into a High School gym with several hundred of my closest friends for almost a week before they moved us all here. When I threw a fit about wanting to leave they assigned me to this job and here I am.” Paul tossed his bowl in the bin. “What about you guys?”

“Not much to tell,” Evan looked at Damien. “I was in St. Louis. Friend of mine has family in Wyoming so we were trying to get there. I’m looking for him. He’s a limping Japanese guy.”

“
Yeah?”

“His name’s Yoshi.”

“I’ll keep an ear open, but I doubt it. There are lots and lots of people here, as you can tell.”

“I know, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t look?” asked Evan.

“I can understand that. Good luck with that,” said Paul bitterly. “But,” he looked around and whispered quietly. “If you figure out how to get out let me know. And good luck on finding your friend. A man needs friends in these times.” Paul met Evan’s eyes.

Evan nodded back and Paul turned and walked away.

“What the hell you doin’?” asked Damien as soon as Paul was out of earshot.

“What?” asked
Evan.

“A guy walks over, tells you his story,
then asks you to help him figure out how to escape this place?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be here,” suggested Evan.

“Man, I’d wager nobody wants to be here, including the Army folks. Just seems fishy to me is all.” Damien shook his head and started walking back toward the ditch.

“I know this has got to be harder on you then me,” started Evan.

“You don’t know nothin’ about me,” grumbled Damien.

“I’m not blind though, Damien.”

Damien stopped and looked back at Evan. Evan met his gaze. Damien shook his head again, turned around kept walking.

When they got back to the ditch they found work halted for the rest of the day due to the heat. Damien turned from the ditch and started walking into the camp. Evan followed him.

Evan and Damien soon found themselves in the tents and crowding and filth of the camp. It truly reminded Evan of refugee camp. But then, he reflected, that’s exactly what it was. As Damien stopped to let someone cross in front of him, something smacked Evan on the side of his head. He turned and saw a gang of teenagers glaring at him. One of them held another rock in his hand. He threw it.

Evan ducked. “What are you doing?” he asked. For an answer another rock came his way. Evan dodged that one too and turned back around for the ditch. He took two steps before realizing Damien wasn’t behind him. Evan swung around in time to see him shoving the lead teenager. Evan rolled his eyes and walked toward them. The teenager threw the first punch. Evan broke into a run as a crowd quickly formed around the fight. Evan pushed his way through as Damien and the teen exchanged blows.

The teen went down and his friends jumped in. Evan tried to hit the nearest one, but something heavy cracked against the back of his head, driving him to his knees. Someone kicked him. Evan panicked. He grabbed the nearest leg and bit, getting a roar of pain and another kick. He let go and struggled to his feet. There was a whistle blast and the teenagers vanished. Damien grabbed his arm and helped him up. Damien’s nose was bleeding. Evan grabbed the back of his head and felt the lump forming.

A pair of soldiers pushed their way through the crowd waving clubs. “What the hell is going on!” one bellowed, grabbing Evan’s shoulder.

“Nothing!” squeaked Evan as the soldier raised his baton.

“That’s an awful bloody nose for nothing,” growled the soldier.

“You shoulda seen the other guy,” said Damien, nasally, as he shook off the other soldier. The other soldier pulled a rag out of his pocket and handed it to Damien with a sympathetic look.

The soldier holding Evan kept his baton raised as he looked from Evan to Damien and back. “I’m keeping my eye on you two,” he growled as he let go of Evan. Evan gathered himself, turned his back to the soldiers and walked away. Damien fell in beside him. The look they shared said everything; there was no way they were staying
here.

Paul looked them over with mild surprise as they made their way into the tent and sat on their bunks. Evan stared at the floor, ignoring the other curious glances their way. This was awful.
The heat, the people, everything. He tried to remind himself that this was America and couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Damien pulled the rag from his nose now that it had stopped bleeding and glowered at it.

“Thanks,” said Evan.

“Don’t mention it man,” said Damien. “Those punks deserved a lesson.”

“It’s me,”
sighed Evan. “If you hang around me, you will get hurt.”

“Don’t say that!” Damien grabbed Evan’s arm. Men looked their way. “You can’t help who you are,” he dropped his voice to a harsh whisper. “It ain’t your fault they threw rocks and it ain’t your fault Yoshi or me or anybody else gets hurt.”

“Okay, geeze,” Evan pulled himself free of Damien. Damien sat back and put the rag back on his nose.

Damien didn’t get it, thought Evan. It wasn’t fair. Everyone around him got hurt and yet here he was, without a scratch. Well, he felt the rising goose egg, virtually without a scratch. Paul walked over and handed Evan a canteen. Evan took a swig and wished it was more than water.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Evan hissed, half to himself, half to Paul.

“I see you had some trouble,” said Paul. “But if you can figure out how to escape, that’s better than me.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Evan looked out the front of the tent and was struck by sudden inspiration. “Paul, what do they do when there are storms?”

“If it’s bad enough they try to get everybody into the military section. I don’t think they can get everybody into the basements, but they try to at least get them into the buildings.
Only happened once since I’ve been here.”

“I think I have an idea,” said Evan.

Paul looked around and then sat next to Evan. Evan whispered his plan, Damien listening in.

The next day started the same as the last. Evan slept a little better, but still had to drag himself out of bed in the morning. Damien looked better, but his face was bruised. He watched Paul warily as they again got in line for breakfast.

“Why
are you trusting him?” asked Damien quietly.

“Why
am I trusting you?” countered Evan. “Maybe he just wants to get out of here as much as we do.”

“He just seems awful enthusiastic is all I’m
sayin’,” urged Damien.

“It’ll be fine,” said Evan, turning away to end the conversation.

They ate their breakfast and got to work. Evan thought he might melt as the day grew even hotter than it had been before. The soldiers watching them stuck to the meager shade proved by the guard house. Work was called to a halt earlier then the day before. After lunch it was suggested that they rest up as they’d be working again that evening when it got cooler. Evan napped in his cot for the afternoon.

Lights were dragged over to the ditch as the sun started to fall. Evan wiped his face with his arm as he bent to turn over another shovel of dirt. There was a low rumble of thunder, but only Evan looked up. Rain would be nice, he thought with a smile.

The lights were turned on, adding electric heat to the already muggy air. Evan leaned on his shovel a moment and looked over at Damien. Damien kept his head down, turning over one shovel at a time. Evan looked up as a soldier started to walk toward him. He knew he needed to get back to work, but wasn’t sure he could turn over one more shovelful of dirt. Just then there was a hiss and one of the lights went dark. Evan turned to look up at it. Someone cursed at it.

“You and you,” said the soldier, pointing at Evan and Paul. “Take this over to the electronics shop.
Now.”

Evan dropped his shovel with a shrug. Damien glanced at him before returning to work. Evan walked over to the heavy light and picked up one end while Paul took the other. “I know where the electronics shop is,” muttered Paul as they wrestled with the light.

They started back through the camp. A few people looked their way as they went along, but no one offered to help. Their destination was a pair of large metal sheds near the military zone. A soldier stood near the entrance and watched them approach. “What do you have there?” he asked.

“We’re from the ditch crew,” said Paul. “This light went on the fritz so they told us to bring it here.” The guard looked them up and down before stepping aside so they could pass.

They made their way into the dim interior of the nearest shed. There was the hum of a generator nearby. The room was cold with air conditioning. A dozen workbenches filled the space, most with some sort of electronic equipment. Items sat in various levels of disassembly on the shelves. People, mostly men, leaned over the workbenches, eyes glued to their work. Evan put down his end of the light with a sigh as a slight man walked over to them.

“We’re from the ditch crew,” said Paul. “The light just went off.”

The man nodded, pulled off a panel and poked his finger inside. “This won’t take long to fix. Hang around, but don’t go bothering people.” He dragged the light over to his bench.

Paul nodded and walked back outside. Evan looked around at the quietly working people. An idea sent a shock down his spine. He started to walk down the aisles, looking at the workers. A few glanced up his way, most
ignored him.

“Hey,” said the slight man, looking up, “I told you not to bother people.”

“Is there a Japanese looking guy around here somewhere?” asked Evan.

“
Asian? Other build….hey where are you going!”

Evan shoved open the front door and ran to the other building. He threw open the door. Nobody looked up from their work as he burst in. A soldier stood just inside the door. He looked up with surprise. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“Yoshi…” said Evan breathlessly.

“What?” said the
guard.

“Evan?” a voice came from somewhere in the back of the room. Evan turned and rushed forward despite the guard’s protest.

There was a clatter as Yoshi dropped what he was working on and stood up. Their eyes met. “Oh my God, Evan, it’s really you.”

All eyes were fixed on them now. Evan stopped a foot away, staring. Yoshi had aged so much in the short time they’d been apart. There was grey in his hair now and he looked thin and frail. Evan saw Yoshi staring back and wondered how much he’d changed himself.