Chapter Thirteen
"Rise and shine!" were the words that roused Martin. He rolled over with a groan. Through sleep encrusted, half closed eyes, he looked about the still dark room to see who it was awakening him. He could make out the Colonel's silhouette in the eerie glow of the chemlights. Martin strained to sit up. He felt so tired that his body actually ached. Martin slowly gained his feet.
"This way Mister Martin...have fresh eggs and some hash for breakfast. The cook forked some of last night's pork with diced potatoes....gotta use everything we have these days ya know." Martin walked towards the door when the Colonel reminded him to get his mask. The two of them walked into the mess hall which was lit by kerosene lamps. The soldiers were already eating their breakfast. Their chatter was half drowned by the loud hissing of the lamps. Martin sat down before a plate of fried eggs and hash. He ate a little before pushing the plate away from him
"Not hungry? That's unusual for someone who has been barely eating. Ya feel alright Mister Martin?"
"Please, call me Bruce, I'm just really tired. By the way, what time is it?"
"Five thirty."
"Five thirty!"
"Yeah Mister, er, um Bruce. I told you we would have an early start. There is an event that takes place at dawn, I wanted you to see. As a matter of fact we better get going." The Colonel stood up and barked "Romeo, let's go!" The mess hall emptied out in an instant. Martin and the Colonel walked out into a very foggy and chilly morning. The first vestiges of dawn were just beginning to illuminate the mist with a slate blue light. The soldiers were all gathered in an open court yard. They all now wore their battle attire of flak jackets and helmets. All were now armed. The Colonel moved towards a gate on a tall chain link fence topped with spirals of razor wire. As the Colonel moved the soldiers formed an elongated circle around him in an almost unconscious manner. Two soldiers, armed with assault rifles stepped from a little shack next to the fence. Through the fog Martin could make out the dark form of a machine gun nest, constructed of sand bags and occupied by two additional soldiers. Martin had been in a well-fortified fortress without realizing it; he had not seen the security when he was brought in the night before. Where ever they were going, it was now apparent that they would be traveling by foot.
As they walked the Colonel and his men seemed very at ease. "Are the streets dangerous? I saw nobody when I was walking yesterday."
"They are pretty darn safe. In some parts it is safer now than before the plague. This airport area used to be pretty high crime. You can now walk without fear. It was really bad the first three weeks or so. People were panicked, basically rioting, storming stores and gas stations, just trying to survive. But as the plague became worse and bodies were literally lining the street, people wouldn't even venture out. We still are getting some supplies. Patriots all across the country are sacrificing, trying to keep this disaster to a minimum. Truckers bring whatever is being made or harvested. They have armed escorts, most of them ordinary citizens. When they unload, nobody is allowed to leave their vehicles. We have people who work in pharmaceutical plants and refineries; living there in isolation in order to keep from getting sick and to keep the fuel and food and medicine coming. Other countries around the world are completely collapsing. But the American spirit has served us well."
"Speaking of other countries, whatever was done about the perpetrators of this attack? My sources said that elements of the Chinese government and Peruvian and Columbian rebels along with Al Qaeda are to blame."
"It has come to light that World War Three was only narrowly avoided. Our new government called China out and they basically threatened war. We actually dropped a neutron device on the Guandong. The Chinese responded by hitting Taiwan with a nuke. Our country hit them; I believe it was a sub base, two more times. Our acting President told them, if this is the end of the world, then so be it. He sent word to them that we are governed by real Americans now and we will live free or die. The Chinese backed down real quick; I heard the speech on the radio describing what had transpired. Columbian and Peruvian rebel bases were hit with nukes and the entire western half of Pakistan no longer exists. President Hamilton, who by the way is the great great great grandson, or something like that, of Alexander Hamilton. Any way he also announced to the world that there would be no more economic aid or military aid to any nation. He said the U.S. is not the world's policeman or bank, we are a sovereign nation. Ahhh here we are."
The platoon approached a large wooden gate of sorts. Before the gate a large bon fire burned in a cinder block lined fire pit. Hanging from the high cross braces of the gate were two large metal objects that resembled bird cages. Two people were crammed into the cages. They were huddled against the back and covered with green military blankets. Each cage had a sign attached to it. The first sign read "I profited from human misery." The second sign read, "I perverted the law for profit." The Colonel noticed Martin staring at the cages as they moved slowly through the chilled fog. "Lawyers" said the Colonel disdainfully. Two armed soldiers stood on each side of the gate and saluted the Colonel and company through. Martin could smell smoke which was mixing with the fog to produce a thick and soupy atmosphere which stifled the growing blue light of dawn. Before them was yet another bon fire, much larger than the first fire at the gate. This fire roared and crackled and occasionally produced a loud crack which sent dancing glowing embers up into the air. As they drew nearer Martin could hear voices emanating from unseen bodies moving through the mist.
Approaching the voices, he could see the form of a gallows materializing through the fog and drifting veils of brown smoke. The Colonel walked up behind Martin and placed a hand on his shoulder. "This is what I wanted you to see. You're a reporter, right? This is the new no nonsense law in America. There will be ten executions by hanging this morning. These people have had a speedy and fair trial by a jury of their peers. They had speedy appeals, by a judicial system that is streamlined and back to what it was meant to be, justice for all, including the victim."
"Hanging? Isn't that barbaric? What's the rest of the world think of this?"
"Are ya forgetting what I told ya? No more foreign aid, we have nuked four countries, the rest of the world be damned! The judiciary has had fifty years to screw this nation's courts up; we are determined to get order restored. Those two in the bird cages are fully visible to all who pass by. Others today will be sentenced to wear sandwich signs declaring their crimes. They will go through the town with an escort, ringing a bell and calling out for all to hear what their crimes were. We have reinstated shame. People, especially the elite, had no shame. Think about the way it used to be, the most famous leaders of business were those on trial, the most famous movie stars were those going to jail or rehab, politicians were famous for scandals....no shame man...no shame."
Martin noticed an excitement in the Colonel's voice that he had been hearing over and over. People seemed ecstatic that there had been a change, that America had founds itself once more. The soldiers milled about for nearly an hour while Helios and steeds raced across the sky, exorcising the vapors from the land. The day had showed itself and it was a glorious one. Martin heard a chorus of voices behind them. Turning around, he saw many armed civilians entering the gate and lining up against the tall chain link fence that surrounded the open court yard. Each man had a different weapon. Some carried small rifles, other had what were obviously assault rifles of one type or another and still others carried shotguns. The Colonel noticed Martin staring at the strange assortment of people and weapons. The Colonel leaned over to Martin and said in a low voice, "Neighborhood militia, responsible for the security of the neighborhood. We," he said, motioning with a wide sweep of his arm to indicate the platoon, "are national guard, here to supervise and assist the militias of Florida, just the way the founding fathers envisioned!"
Soon after the militia had taken their places a long line of what were obviously prisoners came into the courtyard and assembled before the gallows. These men and
some women wore the black and white stripes of the traditional inmate garb, but Martin noticed that they were chained together at the ankle so that when they walked they created a rolling clinking sound reminiscent of Marley's burden.
The Colonel leaned towards Martin and spoke in a low voice, "Chain gangs...miserable existence nowadays...no more prisons with cable and weight rooms, led by gangs...these days you live in tents out somewhere where there is work to be done. If they try to escape you are shot dead. From what I hear there have been several who tried it and they were shot. Crime has real consequences these days. The legal system is here to protect the public...we will never allow it to be so broken as before. In a few minutes you will see ten men pay for their crimes. I think there are some murderers and a couple of rapists. But there is a child rapist who had raped a five year old last year and was released on an obscenely low bond. Turns out the very next week he raped and murdered a little girl coming home from school. The judge was aware of his previous crimes but still chose to cut this creep loose. What an insult to the victims huh?? Anyhow, the judge is going to hang today as well. Seems this type of thing has occurred several times in his court."
"The judge is hanging? What was his crime, I mean besides being a complete uncaring idiot."
"Neglect of duty resulting in the death of a citizen."
"There's no such crime."
"There is now. We have to be severe in order to get this society back from the brink of collapse. The judicial system was an enormous contribution to the woes of America. Here they come now."
A parade of guards stepped out from a long building that looked as though at one time it was some sort of store. The guards were in two rows and walking in between them was another row of men, the condemned. Two other men brought up the rear. One of them seemed to be a minister; Martin was not sure who the other was. The condemned prisoners walked to the back of the gallows. One at a time they walked up the steps to the platform. Guards maneuvered each one to his position under a rope with the characteristic noose. Some of the men were obviously nervous. The man who Martin could not figure out stepped before the gallows and read the condemned's name and crimes; as he did so a guard slipped the noose over his head. One prisoner would not or could not stand and wept bitterly. The guards had to actually hold him up while he was fitted with his noose. It was the judge. He began to scream, "No! No!" and he cried hysterically. The other prisoners glanced at him nervously. The minister then said a prayer. Next the chain gang brought in a cart drawn by an old horse. They positioned the cart in front of the gallows. Then the chain gang formed a line and sang the hymn Amazing Grace. When they had finished a guard underneath the gallows looked at the man who was presiding over the execution. That man nodded to the guard. The judge, seeing that subtle gesture cried out but his panic was cut short as the ten men suddenly fell to their deaths. The bodies twisted slowly for a few minutes. It was deathly quiet save for the prayers of the minister. After several minutes the chain gang climbed the steps to the platform and removed the condemned. They carried the lifeless bodies to the cart. Without ceremony the horse and cart were lead from the compound. Martin and his escorting platoon followed them. The strange convoy maneuvered down streets lined with houses. Martin guessed that they were somewhere around the Liberty City area of Miami. Eventually they came to a large field that looked like an abandoned ball field. At the front was a large stack of lumber situated like a large bonfire. The bodies of the dead prisoners were tossed upon the wood. Martin had to turn away as the wood was lit. The Colonel walked over to Martin.
"Look over here Bruce. This is why those criminals were burned. This is our burial grounds. To put them in here would be desecration of hallowed ground. This is a common grave of all of those who died from the flu. When this thing is over a wall will be built alongside this grave with all of the names of the dead. These people are considered by the nation to have died in war. In this one grave there are three thousand bodies. Every neighborhood has one or two grave sights."
Martin stood and looked across the freshly turned dirt. He walked along the length of the grave, never taking his eyes from it. Until now the flu was an unseen danger, almost not a real thing. But now it hit Martin hard on just what the cost of this attack had been. This park which had once seen baseball games played and echoed with cheers and laughter was now silent, save the crackling and hissing of burning wood and the flesh of corrupt souls. This was only one grave in one neighborhood in one city. This very same scene was in every part of the Nation.
The Colonel led his platoon away from the somber scene. They walked in a relaxed stance that told Martin that they were very comfortable with their current surroundings. I am taking you to Paw Paw street in Liberty City", said the Colonel. "Familiar with the area?" Martin nodded. "Black communities have suffered the most from the games of the courts and politicians. But this neighborhood has really found its roots again. Crime is almost completely wiped out here." Martin raised his eyebrows. The Colonel continued, "Oh, I know, no crime in Liberty City is like an oxymoron but it's true. Their community wardens have really organized the people and the churches have been a tremendous influence. They had a problem with a gang of young punks marauding the area. The local police caught them. They were held in an old store front that serves as a jail here around Paw Paw Street. Well these punks were so emboldened that some of their gang members came to spring them. There was a shootout and not a single gang member survived. The two police officers defending the jail that night were wounded. Know what happened to the punks being held? The neighborhood took them, since there were no cops left and tarred and feathered them right in the middle of the street. Yup tarred and feathered them! Can you believe it?" said the Colonel with a chuckle. "Know what? Nobody has seen those punks since. In case you're wondering why I'm bringing you here, I just wanted you to see how things are now that the American people are back in charge of their own lives and communities. And this neighborhood has the best fruits and vegetables around."
As the platoon walked down the street Martin began to see more and more people out in the street. Some, like him, wore masks. Some of the people came over to the soldiers and greeted them warmly. The soldiers responded likewise. The streets became alive with children playing in the street. Martin could hear music playing as they rounded a corner. In the middle of a large intersection was a fifty five gallon drum that obviously had a fire burning in it. A group of people, mostly black, were sitting around the drum. Two men sat on lawn chairs and played a game of checkers on a picnic table. Several men and women stood around watching the game. Another group sat in chairs next to a barbecue grill.
"Well look who it is. How are yall? It's been a few days Colonel...yall smelled my cookin' didn't cha?" said a laughing middle aged man with graying hair and an engaging personality. The man seemed to know each of the platoon members. The Colonel greeted him with a warm handshake and a slap on the shoulder. The Colonel called him Sam and Sam Called the Colonel Mike. Martin half smiled when Sam addressed the Colonel as Mike. The application of a named seemed to drop a tough façade and illuminate the man that was "Colonel." The soldiers began to relax and they slung their guns over their shoulders and began to chat with the locals.
"Who have we here?" asked Sam.
The Colonel extended an arm towards Martin inviting him to step forward as he was introduced to Sam. "This is Bruce Martin. He was a reporter for the Biscayne Sun."
This caused Sam to raise his eyebrows. Martin became keenly aware once again that the American population had acquired a keen dislike for the press. But the Colonel quickly interjected a calming addition to the introduction. "Mister Martin was the first to alert the country as to what was happening. The government tried to off him so he went into hiding. He has some friends who are down, hence the mask. I was braggin on yall's vegetables. Ya think you could hook us up with some green stuff there Sam?"
Sam looked at Martin through slightly squinted eyes as though he were taking aim at him.
"I reckon we could give him some good stuff", said Sam hesitatingly. Then he seemed to conclude that Martin could be trusted and his demeanor quickly changed. He reached out and grabbed Martin by the arm and led him towards the grill. I'll give ya some ribs too! My ribs are a lot better than those white boy's!" he said laughing. "Hey Martin, ya know how I know that Adam was a white man?" Martin looked uncomfortable and shook his head, indicating that he did not know. ""Cause ain't no black man gonna give up a rib!" said Sam slapping him on the back and laughing heartily. Sam's neighbors all smiled at Martin's obvious awkwardness. "Relax young man." said Sam warmly. "Things are different now. We have all lightened up. We know that there are differences between the races, that's what makes life so interesting. It's not a bad thing; it's something to be celebrated and embraced. I love you for who you are!" Then Sam suddenly took on a serious air, "We work hard at it these days because the politically correct thing was a way to scare people into silence. It is a dangerous thing Bruce."
Sam escorted Martin over to the grill. The people turned and smiled at Martin except for one whose back was turned to Martin. When she stood she turned to face him. She was a small woman, tiny in height and bony in frame. She wore her hair in long coarse gray braids. Bangles of gold and rope and beads adorned her wrists. She wore a heavy chain of gold around her neck with what appeared to be some sort of old antique key attached to it. She dressed herself in a simple white blouse and skirt separated from one another by a length of crimson cloth about her waist. Martin guessed her age to be somewhere around sixty. She looked at Martin with a piercing glare. She stepped towards him and pulled his mask down seemingly without fear. Martin looked at her and then nervously glanced at the others surrounding him. They seemed to share his uneasiness. All who had been seated now stood and stepped back from Martin and the old woman. She raised a bony finger and pointed it at Martin as she spoke in a thick Haitian accent.
"You...you Bruce Martin...you ahr one of Gabriel's trumpets! You...you ahr chosen...but you ahr too blind to see tis...but you have seen him...oh yes I know...you have seen him, as I have."
The other people were now staring intently at Martin. Martin took a step back from the strange women invading his personal space but she only stepped towards him again.
"Who?" asked Martin, "Who have I seen?"
"The fallen one. Did you not recognize him? Perhaps it was as I. It took me a long time to see him for what he was. Beautiful in appearance, alluring, seductive just as the trappings of this world. Sometimes he is a man, other times a woman. Think...you know...the one who you thought was strange but couldn't put your finger on it...yes, yes you know."
Martin stared at the woman; he knew what she was talking about. Martin's mind raced back to all the times that he noticed someone who seemed somehow different. He was suddenly jolted from his thoughts by Sam's voice.
"That'll do Miss Michele...you're gonna give our new friend here the heebee geebees.
Miss Michele is something of a prophet...she sees things" explained Sam.
"She's Haitian" observed Martin.
"Yup" replied Sam, "But she's Christian. She says that the end times have begun and that the anti-Christ is here. She sees Satan and believes that the shadow of evil is growing across the world. Apparently she thinks that you have seen evil too. Believe it or not she's usually right on" said Sam now eyeing Martin half suspiciously once more. Martin's response was a half laugh as he nervously reviewed the times that he saw a person who just seemed different. He knew instinctively that he had seen evil incarnate but his mind refused to accept such a thing.
Sam escorted Martin, who was now pushing a wheelbarrow, through the community. The platoon stayed behind. Sam pointed out a school, newly painted and landscaped. The neighborhood warden drew Martin's attention to the flag pole. A strange yellow flag flew between the American and Florida flag. Martin had seen it before in his school days. The yellow field had a coiled rattlesnake in the center with the words "Don't tread on me" emblazoned in bold black lettering.
"It's a Gadsden flag, from the revolutionary war days. All government facilities fly them now. It's a warning to the world; America is back and as strong as ever. Our kids, like all American children say the pledge every morning once again. They also sing God Bless America every day as well. Oh I know that some of that old secular liberalism that the press loved so much is still ticking away somewhere in you. But this nation has found itself once more. This broad liberal interpretation of the constitution will stand no more! The constitution states only that congress shall pass no law mandating a single state religion. Nowhere does it state that religion is to be abolished from government or everyday life. A poll before the plague showed that eighty three percent of American considered themselves Christians. The truth is that this is a Christian country. We, as bound by the constitution, shall not persecute other religions and others are free to practice theirs, but so are we! Religion and culture are the threads that have bound the fabric of this nation together. Ya wanna know something that really pissed me off? Remember last year when the Supreme Court was hearing the arguments for gun control? Those wimpy assed lawyers were saying that it only applies to militias. Nowhere does it say that individuals have a right to be armed. Well, what infuriated me was the hypocrisy! Show me where in the Constitution it says that you are not allowed to display religious symbols! When it's convenient for them, they interpreted the constitution literally, when it was inconvenient all of a sudden you had to make these broad assumptions of what the founding father's actual intent was. But that was last year...bastards won't be making any rulings against the citizenry anymore!
"Rulings?" Martin inquired.
"Like....for instance their crazy interpretation of imminent domain. They can take your property and give it to some rich developer because he will pay more in taxes than a single person! That's just insane! One of the cornerstones of this country was the opportunity to own property! Ah, but enough of my rambling, here we are...the garden."
Martin and Sam stepped through the gate of a low chain link fence and into a large field with row upon row of vegetables of every description. Over the next half an hour the two men picked several bags full and placed them in Martin's wheelbarrow. Then Sam took Martin down the street past an old abandoned church.
"See that ol' church? That's our new school for office management and secretarial skills. Come on round back and check this out."
They walked around to the old two story church's back. There was scaffolding erected across the entire building. Young men were moving up and down it. Some were mixing stucco; others were applying it to the walls. Older gentlemen were obviously instructing them.
"This is one of several schools that we...this run down, neglected neighborhood got together and created this to help those ladies who would have been on drugs or whatever this time last year. This gives them skills and their children skills. We also have free housing for them, with mentors. No more Gestapo kicking in the door and dragging children away from their families and handing them over to god knows who. What kind of country does that Bruce? What kind of nation gives billions to people overseas but neglects its own citizens? The government has really abused the black community. Illegals did the jobs that traditionally young poor black and poor whites did. That served a purpose, to motivate people to better themselves. But when you had a bunch of foreigners working for peanuts and poor Americans sitting on their asses and being paid by welfare there was no motivation to better themselves. But now the borders are closed..."
"They're closed?" asked Martin.
"Yup the troops from Germany and Japan and Korea are home and patrolling the borders. The open borders that the government ignored is why there have been millions of deaths...it's on their heads."
"What were you Sam? I mean what did you do before the, the plague."
"I was a school teacher. I was also the union president. I was a Kool Aid drinker, like you. Like so many of us were. It's a cryin' shame that it took this
to wake us up...a cryin' shame. Shame on us all!"
As the two of them walked back to the barbecue they talked of life before and after the plague.
"Mind if I rest a minute Sam? I'm feeling a little puny. Maybe its lack of food and too much excitement today", said Martin as he sat down on the curb in the shade of a Ficus tree.
"Sure, son. Say you're not looking real good. You're really pale." Sam reached down to pat him on the back in reassurance. "Bruce, you are burning up. Come on let's get you to Miss Susan, she's a nurse and it's just round the corner here."
Martin was panicked by his symptoms. "I'm comin' down with the flu Sam. My friends had it and now I do too. Ya better just stay back." Martin noticed that as he spoke tears were rolling down his face.
"Come, come now Bruce, it's going to be O.K.", said Sam in an attempt to calm Martin.
Martin looked up at Sam, his face shining with tears. "I don't want to die Sam. I really haven't done much with my life. I want to live! I want to accomplish great things." Martin looked exhausted and totally defeated. He sat on the curb a conquered man, defeated by the microbial enemy he had feared for so long. Sam felt pity on the man and spoke to him in a calm and reassuring tone.
"And you're going to Bruce. Just because you have the flu doesn't mean that you're going to die. I had the flu! So did Miss Susan. Now come on, let's get you to bed. I'm going to take you to Miss Susan's house, that's our little flu hospital." Sam extended his hand to Martin. Martin took it and slowly rose to his feet. The effort forced another barking cough. "It's going to be alright son, c'mon now" and Sam lead Martin down the road and up to a nondescript ranch style house with a large Mango tree in the front yard. "This is Miss Susan's house here."