Ex-Patriots

Chapter 6 NOW

“It’s a military base,” said Barry. He’d been home from his recon mission since sundown, changed back from the energy form, and eaten two peanut-butter sandwiches on the way from Four to Roddenberry. He was working on the third. It had apple slices in it that crunched whenever he took a bite.

They were in Stealth’s conference room. The cloaked woman had spread another map across the table, this one showing most of the American southwest. The thought flitted through St. George’s mind that he had no idea where she got all her maps from. Maybe she’d looted a travel store at some point before they founded the Mount.

Barry placed his hands on the edge of the table and heaved himself up out of his wheelchair. “Army, if I remember my camo patterns and stuff,” he continued, “but I’m pretty sure I saw Air Force there, too, and maybe a couple of Marines.”

“All working together on one base?” said St. George. “Isn’t that a little odd?”

“Unusual, but not unheard of,” said Stealth. Her black-gloved finger traced out an area in southwest Arizona. “The most likely candidate is the Yuma Proving Ground.”

“Didn’t seem that big,” said Barry. “This was just two or three little places and a small airstrip, none of them much bigger than the Mount.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

“There are a lot of sub-bases in the proving ground,” said Danielle. She reached up and brushed a stringy lock of strawberry-blonde hair away from her freckled face, then swiped at it again when it dropped back down. The only way she could attend was to take off the Cerberus armor, and she was fidgeting. It had taken St. George an hour to convince her to take it off. “I did a quick trip out there once to test the mount for the arm cannons. As a whole it might be overrun, but it wouldn’t surprise me if there was still a functioning base or two there somewhere.”

Barry studied the map while he chewed. “I think it was around here,” he said, twiddling his fingers at part of the map. “There was a pretty decent-sized area with a triple-fence where most of the activity was. A couple hundred exes outside. Forty or fifty buildings, a helipad, and a power substation pulling from somewhere off-base. And there was an airstrip twenty or so miles from there where the Predator was docked or parked or whatever you say. It looked pretty clean and ex-free, too.”

“How many people?”

He shrugged. “Not sure. Looked like a lot less than us. I mean, the original us. Skeleton crew guarding the walls. A lot of buildings, but it didn’t look overcrowded. You know how we’ve got tents on rooftops and all that? There’s none of that.”

St. George looked at the distance between the proving grounds and the city of Yuma. “Any civilians?”

Barry shook his head. “If there were, I didn’t see them.”

Stealth shook her head. “It is unlikely a military base would have large numbers of civilian refugees.”

Danielle frowned. “It’s not like the movies, you know,” she said. “In a real crisis protecting civilians would be a top priority.”

“It is unfortunate, then, that the ex-virus was not recognized as a real crisis sooner,” said the hooded woman.

St. George let out a slow breath and a wisp of dark smoke curled from his nostrils. “So this is real,” he said. “The military’s still up and running and they’re looking for us.”

“There is the possibility the base and its resources are being used by other survivors,” said Stealth, “but the logical assumption is this is a functioning base staffed by the U.S. Army.”

They all stared at the map for a few moments.

“Look, I hate to be the serious one here,” said Barry, “but are we sure this is a good thing?”

They looked at him. Danielle frowned again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“These guys have been on their own at least as long as we have,” he said. “We don’t know what kind of shape they’re in, physically or mentally.”

St. George’s lips twisted into a thin smile. “Still worried about a crazy military?”

“A little, yeah.” He shrugged again. “I just think we should be a bit cautious before we go running up to hug a bunch of heavily-armed guys who’ve been standing out in the sun for two years.”

“There’s the other side of that coin,” said Danielle. “We don’t know they’re alone. For all we know there are military installations and population centers all over the country that are connected.”

“We have seen no evidence of such a thing,” said Stealth.

“And I’ve never heard it,” said Barry, waving his half-sandwich in the air. “Even if they were all on the east coast, I’d see something in the air now and then.”

“I’m just saying it could be,” insisted the redhead. “Let’s not convince ourselves this is a bad thing before we have more evidence.”

“Let’s not forget something else,” said St. George. “They know we’re out here now. We sent them a message through their Predator.”

Barry nodded. “That we did.”

“It seems safe to say they didn’t know what they’d find when they sent the drones,” St. George said. “Now they know we’re out here. I think we should wait and see what they do. Let them make the next move.”

Stealth tilted her head at him. “And if they do not make a move?”

“Then we can send Barry to check them out again. But for now, let’s play it cool.”

Barry grinned. “Don’t want to call too soon after our first date?”

“Don’t want them thinking we’re a threat,” said St. George. “They’re probably as freaked out by us as we are by them. And like you said, they’ve got a lot more guns. Let’s wait a couple days and see if the Predator comes back.”

Danielle nodded. “When they do, we can use my call sign and codes. Even if they can’t verify it, they should be able to recognize it as our military without too much trouble.”

Stealth gave a slow nod. “A sound plan for the present.”

“There’s one other thing, though,” said St. George. “What do we tell everyone?”

“What do you mean?” asked Danielle.

“Everyone here at the Mount. Inside the Big Wall. Do we keep quiet? Do we tell them the military’s coming to save the day?”

“I am sure that decision has been made for you, George,” said Stealth.

He looked at her. “How so?”

“Besides the four of us, fourteen scavengers know of the Predator drone. I find it unlikely all of them have remained silent on this matter. I would estimate at least two hundred people have been told the news during the course of this meeting.”

St. George sighed.

“Oh, joy,” said Barry. “That won’t cause any headaches.”

“I would suggest we advise citizens against any premature assumptions as to the nature of this incident. Perhaps we can protect them from potential disillusionment and the corresponding blow to morale.”

“Assuming, of course,” said Danielle, “there’s going to be a reason to be disillusioned.”

The lights flickered. “That’s my cue,” said Barry. He swallowed the last crust of his sandwich. “Batteries are running low. I need to get back to the chair.”

“They’re not lasting any time at all now,” muttered the redhead.

“We’re supplying six times as many people,” said St. George. “We need to figure out a better way to do this.”

“You’re telling me,” said Barry. He swung himself off the table and into his wheelchair. “You know it’s been six weeks since I slept in a bed?”

“Come on,” said the hero, scooping up his patchwork leather jacket. “Let’s get you over to Four.”

“Cerberus,” said Stealth, “if you could escort Zzzap back to the electric chair, I would like to speak with St. George for a few more minutes. Alone.”

“Somebody’s in trou-ble,” sang Barry with a grin.

The redhead took in a quick breath. “Will you be long? I was hoping to get the armor back on tonight.”

“Take the rest of the night off,” St. George told her. “We’ll get you suited back up in the morning.”

“Oh, sure,” said Barry. “She gets to sleep in a bed.”

“Someone needs to check the gates, though,” said Danielle. “If you two are going to be here for a while—”

“I will check the gates once our meeting is done,” said Stealth. “Will you see Zzzap back to Four, please?”

Her elbows pulled in closer to her body. “Sure,” she said. “No problem.” She wheeled Barry around and out the conference room doors.

St. George dropped his jacket back on the table and looked at the cloaked woman. “What’s up?”

“How did the new chainmail armor perform?”

“Nobody likes it, but Danny Foe let an ex get the drop on him and it stopped the bite. Not much past that. Everyone was on their game today.”

“Is there anything else to report from your mission?”

He leaned back against the table. “Pretty much just what we expected to find in the valley,” he said. “Exes seem more numerous but spread out more. Most everything’s looted along Cahuenga, but it’s hard to tell when so it doesn’t help us figure out if there are other survivors out there.”

“Did you listen?”

“What?”

“You launched a flare which would have been visible throughout most of the southern San Fernando Valley. If survivors saw it, there is a reasonable chance they would have made an effort to attract your attention.”

He sagged a little. “I didn’t even think of that. I was so excited about the plane.”

“The fault is mine,” she said. “I became focused on the flare as a signal for our own purposes. I did not consider the possibility it would serve as an indirect beacon to others until after you had left.”

“It’s not your responsibility to think of all this stuff.”

“Someone must be responsible,” she said, “and I am the best suited to the task.”

“Well,” he said, “maybe it won’t be for much longer. If it really is the Army we’re all off the hook. Someone else will be in charge.”

She tilted her head at him. “I did not realize you were eager to be relieved of your responsibilities.”

“Aren’t you? I mean, let’s face it. There’s got to be people better qualified than us to rebuild civilization.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Perhaps not. To my eyes, you are eminently qualified.”

They looked at each other for a few moments, then a few more, and then she turned and moved to the bank of monitors. St. George picked up his jacket. The doors were closed behind him when he realized he’d missed another opportune moment.

* * *

“So,” said Barry as the wheelchair rolled along the garden, “you want to hang out for a bit? It’s boring as hell just sitting in the chair all the time. I’ve got tons of movies.”

He felt Danielle shake her head behind him. “I’ve got to get back,” she said. “A couple things to do.”

“Like what?”

“What?”

“What do you have to do?”

“Just…stuff. You know. I spend so much time in the armor a lot of stuff gets neglected.”

“So you’re doing laundry? Please tell me you’re doing laundry, because it’s way overdue.” He gestured to the open street as they turned onto 3rd. “Hey, use the center of the lane. It’s smoother. Easier on the chair and my butt.”

“Whatever.”

She leaned and the wheelchair worked its way out into the center of the road. “Yeah,” he said. “Much better.”

Danielle gave a grunt. To their south was the Melrose gate. They could hear the distant chattering of teeth in hundreds of mouths.

“So no movie, eh?”

“No, sorry.”

“I’ve got a couple games, too. Finally figured out how to run an optical mouse remote, so I can use a laptop.”

“I told you, I’ve got to get back to my place.”

“Well, if you want you can swing by my place and take all the cushions off the couch. Keep ‘em if you like. I’m never there.”

“What?”

“I just figured you’d want to build yourself a little fort to sleep in.”

She stopped pushing the chair. “Fuck you.”

“If only someone would,” he sighed. He spun his chair so he faced her. Without the handles to hold onto, her arms pulled in close to her body. “But let’s talk about you. How long were you in the armor for this time?”

“As long as I needed to be.”

“How long?”

She sighed. “Four days. More or less.”

“More or less?”

“Almost five.”

Barry looked at her. “It’s only built for three, right?”

“It can do more if it needs to.”

“No wonder you stink. Have you even eaten?”

“I can stand to lose some weight.”

“Yeah, you and all the other fat people running around after the apocalypse.”

“The suit’s getting tight in the legs.”

“Whatever,” he said. “Look, you know you’re safe in here, right? They can’t get you.”

She glanced over her shoulder toward the gate. Toward the big white cross.

“I’ve got your back,” said Barry. “George and Stealth have it. Hell, most people here love you.”

She smirked. “Not everyone.”

“Well, there’s a few idiots in every crowd,” he said. “Point is, you’ve got to stop hiding in the damned suit.”

“Mister Burke,” called someone behind him. Barry rolled his eyes at the sound of the voice and Danielle winced.

“Christian,” said Barry, turning his wheelchair. “We were just talking about you. What’s up?”

Christian Nguyen had been an L.A. councilwoman and had hung onto her small amount of power when society began to rebuild itself inside the Mount. Now she was district leader for Southeast and all of Raleigh, and some people thought she had a good chance of being mayor if everyone could agree on a fair way to do elections. She was also “super-phobic,” as some called it, and made no effort to hide her feelings.

Danielle kept it simple and called her a bitch.

Christian marched across the cobblestones with a half-dozen or so people behind her. She stopped in front of the wheelchair and glared down at Barry. “What’s this about a helicopter flying over the valley?”

“It was a Predator,” he said. “Not a helicopter.”

“Don’t try to dodge,” she snapped. “Why weren’t we told about it?”

“If you weren’t told about it, how do you know about it?”

“Everyone knows,” she said. “What I want to know is why nothing official’s been said.”

“Well,” said Barry, “Stealth figured you’d all find out in a few hours—like you did—so there was no need to make some proclamation from on high.”

Christian’s lips twisted into a smug smile. “What you mean is St. George ordered people not to talk and Stealth realized they would anyway.”

Barry felt a faint tremor as Danielle took hold of the wheelchair’s handles again. Part of him hoped she was going to ram the chair into Christian’s shins. “Yet again,” he said, “you know it all.”

“Are you going to tell us what the pilot said?”

“The pilot?”

“The helicopter pilot.”

He sighed. He made sure it was a loud sigh. “A, it wasn’t a helicopter, it was a Predator drone, and two, a Predator doesn’t have a pilot.”

“What do you mean, it doesn’t have a pilot?”

“It’s a drone, Christian. A robot.”

“A robot plane? How stupid do you think I am?”

One of her followers, a scrawny man, stepped forward and muttered something to her. She glared down at the man in the wheelchair.

“Did you want me to answer that last one,” said Barry, “or was it rhetorical?”

“I think you need to start being a bit more respectful,” she snapped. “Whatever it was, it was a symbol of the American government.”

“It was a drone,” interrupted Danielle. “Nobody knows who was controlling it. Could’ve been anyone.”

Barry nodded.

Christian’s scowl turned into a smirk. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? To convince everyone help isn’t on the way. That the rest of the world isn’t pulling itself out of the Godless state Los Angeles has been left in.” She threw back her shoulders and tossed a glance to her entourage. “The days of Stealth’s little dictatorship are numbered,” she said. “Your power over all of us is coming to an end and you’ll make up any lie you can to hang onto it.”

“Seriously,” said Barry, “why wouldn’t we want that? You think I like spending seven days a week in a metal ball so you can read at night?”

She waved off his comments and pushed her hand at his face. He felt the chair shift on the cobblestones and he was sure Danielle was about to ram it forward. “Things are getting back to normal,” Christian said. “We’ll see where that leaves all of you.”

A murmur of consent rose from the followers. She tossed her head back, glared at Barry and Danielle in turn, and stalked off with her minions.

Barry took in a breath to shout something after her and settled for giving the finger with both barrels.

“What a bitch,” muttered Danielle.

“What are you complaining about? You got off easy.”

“She doesn’t know who I am,” said the redhead. “Most people think I’m always nine feet tall and fifteen-hundred pounds. They see a skinny, helpless woman and I’m just a face in the crowd.”

He twisted around to look at her. “You’re not helpless.”

“We’re all helpless, Barry,” she said. “As long as things stay like this, we’re all screwed.”