After the Pandemic: Genocide (4): The Highbridge (680 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesLabels: After_the_Pandemic
Rating: 2 on 18 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Axolotl (View user info) at 2005-12-06 10:10:18 EST
Jack McCallum's Introduction - http://www.ubersite.com/m/61238
After the Pandemic: Genocide (1): The Variants - http://www.ubersite.com/m/79933
After the Pandemic: Genocide (2): The Armory - http://www.ubersite.com/m/80119
After the Pandemic: Genocide (3): Times Square - http://www.ubersite.com/m/80429
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PART THREE- Times Square
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In the White House, President John Derringer sat down at the long table in his cabinet. With him was Vice President Effinger, Secretary of Defense Steven Marquez, and Secretary of State Amy Dupont.
John Derringer was a tall, thin man with wire-rimmed spectacles and a jutting chin. At the age of fifty-nine and nine months into his first term, he reminded many voters of the first George Bush in his stature. Born into obscurity in Annapolis, Maryland, he had become a lawyer at the age of thirty-one, the mayor of Annapolis at forty-two, the representative for his district at forty-six, and had served with honor in the House of Representatives until being elected to the Presidency at the age of fifty-eight. A moderate liberal Democrat, he had won his electoral campaign against Condoleezza Rice by denigrating the mismanagement of the Iraq war, as only the Southern and Middle America Republican bastions had not voted for him.
However, just as his term was starting, President Derringer was faced with a far greater threat: the American troops stationed in Iraq were falling prey to Mauer's Syndrome, a new disease emerging from Africa. As his soldiers died, Derringer made a fatal mistake by sending tens of thousands more overseas to replace the dying brigades. The new soldiers took sick, and became zombies just like the old ones. Iraq was now a wasteland, and whatever Americans still remained were infected and zombified.
"How bad has this New York situation blown up?" a harassed Derringer asked his cabinet as he sat down at the table.
"About as bad as it could possibly be," said Secretary of State Amy Dupont, a mid-forties woman with a taut, rigid face and short blond hair. "Mayor Bloomberg has resigned...he only had a month to go in his term anyway before elections, but still, it's a demoralization blow to the estimated three hundred thousand Manhattanites who are not infected."
"Out of a total pre-disease population of eight million, about one million have been infected as of two hours ago, with four hundred thousand dead. Another five million have fled the city," said Russell Effinger, a heavyset bespectacled man. "So roughly 1.6 million uninfected citizens of Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island, the Bronx, and Brooklyn remain."
"Brooklyn is a wasteland, and so is Manhattan, with the exception of uptown and Greenwich Village," clarified Dupont. "Most of the uninfected survivors are in Staten Island and the Bronx, where the disease has not spread yet."
"How is the lockdown proceeding, Marquez?" the President asked.
"I've got the 42nd Infantry locking off Harlem, Fort Lee, and Staten Island, with General Riley himself shuttling by helicopter between his bases in Levittown and Hackensack," answered Secretary of Defense Steven Marquez, handing the President a list of brigades and battalions, along with a map of the region and forces. "I've requested the 10th Division down from Fort Drum, but they can only spare one brigade; the other three were destroyed in Iraq, you see."
"Damn," President Derringer said remorsefully.
"The Joint Chiefs and I both agree," Marquez continued. "That aside from perhaps moving in perhaps a single airborne division, we should leave all standing forces where they are. Our military is stretched thin as it is, what with the disease in Iraq and Afghanistan over the last nine months, and if these zombies begin to appear in any other cities, we need our forces there to defend against those ones."
"But how much progress is being made on the ground at New York?"
Marquez cleared his throat and said quietly, "Very little. A local National Guard scout battalion was forced back from Times Square at around 6:15 ET today. Other units are coming in from New England to help, but there really is no progress being made. For every zombie that our soldiers kill, five more unsuspecting civilians are infected in their place. They replenish their ranks with every American soldier that they wound or kill...we've seen that in Iraq, Mr. President."
"So what can we do?" asked a concerned Dupont.
"Is it so far-fetched to think that a massive large-scale biological or chemical attack on the city itself would not be successful?" asked Vice President Effinger cautiously.
"I wouldn't say biological," Marquez said, steepling his fingers together. "But perhaps a phosgene gas...or anthrax or nerve gas airstrike onto midtown and Brooklyn could quell the zombie threat at least for a while."
"I was thinking of a more nuclear option," Effinger said.
"I couldn't do...not just yet, not that just yet," President Derringer replied.
"But when?" Effinger said, seizing the moment. "At what point do we draw the line? When half the country is infected and fifty million Americans are dead? When, Mr. President? What shall we do?"
The President ground his teeth and buried his face in his hands, holding up the military papers before his visage. For a few minutes, what seemed like an eternity, he was lost in thought. Setting the papers back down, he quietly gave his command.
"Hit New York with the nerve gas. We'll see how the fight goes tonight, and if by next morning there has been no progress...we chemically firebomb the city."
"A worthy decision, Mr. President."
* * *
Jennifer was alone, utterly and entirely. Surrounded by thousands of civilians, screaming children and frightened people in the auditorium of the armory, she was isolated in the sea of humanity. While people milled around her, she sat on her government-issued cot and obsessively wrung her hands, not willing to let herself express the feelings of psychological duress crowding her mind.
In a scene akin to the New Orleans Superdome in the Hurricanes of 2005, hundreds of people were jammed into the crowded auditorium, as well as the soldiers' quarters further up into the building. People walked around aimlessly, or watched CNN on the big-screen TVs the National Guard had set up around the armory. All ages were within the armory, from the senile and dying elderly to the youngest babies a few weeks old.
"Attention, attention please," the commander of the garrison at Teaneck Armory, Lieutenant Colonel Clements, said over the intercom. "Will the selected civilians please report to the parking lot outside, to await transportation to the Palisades front lines?"
Looking up in interest, Jennifer Grant saw that about a dozen or so regular civilians were moving toward the parking lot doors, flanked by riflemen. On a simple impulse, Jennifer arose from the cot, and taking her rucksack, followed the column through the winding aisles of people in the armory
"Go, go, go," a young female soldier at the door was repeating in a monotone as she pushed the troops by. Jennifer, following the train of civilians headed out to the parking lot, nodded genially at the guardswoman as she passed by.
"Go," the woman said, and Jennifer had escaped from the stifling armory.
Out in the parking lot, the afternoon sun shone warm on Jennifer and the troop of twelve civilians in a way it never could have done through the paned armory windows. The fresh, outside air felt good on the civilians as they marched down under armed guard to the Humvees, where a cluster of officers and soldiers were gathered.
Jennifer saw with some surprise that the grounds of the armory had drastically changed. Yesterday night when she had entered the armory, the building was surrounded by a trimmed and expansive lawn, but now trenches and bunkers were dug in all around the perimeter. Soldiers manned pillboxes behind the lines, and sandbag-lined ditches and foxholes pocked the grassy field, barbed wire thrown up along the sidewalk and throughout the meadow.
Staring for a moment at the WWI-like scene, the female trooper gripped her on the shoulder. Jumping in fear that her deception would be recognized, Jennifer slowly turned to face the person who accosted her..
"Get down to the trucks," the guardswoman said. "You medics need to get down there as soon as possible. The casualties are skyrocketing in uptown, and the 10ID, 1st Brigade won't be here for three more days."
"Of course, I'm sorry," Jennifer said breathlessly. Thanking God for her luck, she continued down to the medical volunteers and loaded in the Humvee along with a fireteam of soldiers as guards.
"Are they bringing in any marines?" a soldier said cordially to his comrade as the drivers started up the trucks.
"No, just the 10th Light Infantry," said his mate. "But I heard rumor that if we can't control the zombies, the 82nd or 101st Airborne will be coming over from Germany to take back the city."
"We need some tanks," the former said nervously. "We don't have no armor here, the zombies are going to cut right through us."
"Don't worry, man, we know what we're doing."
* * *
"Death to America!" Tobias Collins cried, holding up a burning flag. "Death to all of those who would wish to kill us just because of what we are!"
Tobias was met with cheers from the assembled crowd of two hundred zombies in Central Park. Standing on top of a bridge over a creek that ran to Harlem Meer, Tobias waved his blackened and charred star-spangled banner
"We are not America!" he shouted, coupling his sword in the air with the staff of the flag. "We are Manhattan! Embrace yourselves for what your true nature is—zombies! We are those who feed on flesh, and America wants to prevent us from consuming what is natural to us!"
"No, no!" the zombies called. "We must eat flesh and drink blood! Feed us, Tobias!"
"Come, follow me," Tobias said earnestly. "Arm yourselves. Find armor, find swords and knives, and find for our use those with Variant B and Variant A to aid us. The Americans have the guns, but we have the numbers! We will go uptown, where hundreds of thousands of fresh humans await our teeth! Come, follow me!"
"We will! We will!"
Tobias leapt off of the parapet, his senses flushed with the mixture of opium and Variant C coursing in his bloodstream. It was almost like a high, the power he was receiving. Never in his life had he been respected in this way, with hundreds of people willing to follow him anywhere, even to their deaths at the barrels of Derringer's guns.
"Uptown!" Tobias cried, and the zombies mobilized and followed him through Central Park.
A little distance away from Tobias' base of operations at Central Park, Lieutenant Gordon and Companies A and B of the Teaneck Battalion were dug in near the GWB on Washington Heights.
"What the hell am I doing here," Lieutenant Gordon said, aiming down Broadway with his M-16, prone on the body-covered ground. "I've guarded the George Washington Bridge before, but just for checking cars, and counterterrorism, not actually against anything."
"We'll be home before you know it, and the zombies will all be dead," Preston said reassuringly.
"Men!" Captain Farrell called, running out of the low-rise apartment building that was serving as General Pickett's temporary headquarters. "I've just received word that the 86th Vermont Armored has moved into Harlem Heights, and that we are to be receiving armored support by the end of today!"
Gordon's face broke into a smile, and he joined all the men cheering for the happy news. "Hear that, Danny?" he said to Preston. "Maybe we're not as fucked as we think."
Brigadier General Uriah Pickett was a young man in his mid-thirties, the commander of the 50th New Jersey Infantry Brigade, New Jersey's only personalized army unit. The days when the regiments of the United States Army were formed from men of local regions who all knew each other had long passed since the Spanish-American War. Now the regular army divisions were conglomerates of men and women from all over the country, but the National Guard was still local and regional.
"Captain," Pickett said, nodding his head as Farrell entered the apartment serving as the Brigade Headquarters.
"The men are well pleased," Farrell said, smiling despite himself.
"Hmm," Pickett replied. "I've tried to send word for the 26th Massachusetts, but they're guarding Washington DC, and the President doesn't want to move those troops away. He didn't even want to give us the 86th Vermont Armored, in case Boston is infected by the zombies."
"In a way, he's right," Farrell said hesitantly. "New York can't be the only—"
"I know he's right, but I need troops to defend this city!" Pickett hissed. "How does he expect General Riley to lock down an entire massive city of eight million with a division of just eight or nine thousand soldiers? We need more men, especially on the Long Island front. Riley's been trying to block off the entire Queens-Nassau border with two thousand Pearl River and Patchogue guardsmen...the regulars and reinforcements can't come soon enough. Riley's been given the 103rd Rhode Island Field Artillery Brigade, but I don't know how well..."
"Don't worry, General," Farrell said, calmingly. "Things are getting better. General Riley is experienced, and with any hope the 10th and 28th Divisions will be arriving shortly to boost our fighting strength."
"I would drink, but I have an army to command," Pickett said despondently, drumming his fingers on a 1.75-liter bottle of Dewar's. "We'll just stay here and await the 86th Vermont."
Farrell returned to his company, and Pickett delivered some phone calls to General Riley, some of his other superiors, the commander of the 86th Vermont, and General Rodriguez, the commander of the 28th Pennsylvania Division.
"Where is the armor?" Gordon asked after two hours had gone by lying on the hot New York asphalt street in the warm mid-September air. "I thought the tanks were at Harlem Heights."
"They were..." Farrell replied, staring off into the canyon-like streets in worry. "Only should be ten minutes at most."
Stepping out of his headquarters shakily, as though he was expecting the sky to fall at any moment, General Pickett called out to his company commanders, "Where's the tanks? Where's Vermont?"
"We don't know, sir," returned the captain of Company A.
"Send out some scouts, I want to know that our armor is intact," Pickett ordered, immediately retreating into his building once again.
Farrell glanced at the Company A captain, who gestured that he would do it. The soldiers were at the convergence of 169th Street, Broadway, and St. Nicolas Avenue; the captain said, "Platoon four, follow down Saint Nick's to 175th, then turn east to Amsterdam and follow the street north to the bridges over the Harlem River. Make contact with the 3rd New York and find out what's holding up the Vermont troops."
The platoon's lieutenant saluted and affirmed the command, setting off north along St. Nicolas'. For a long time, the two companies under Pickett waited in anticipation for the return.
"Here," said Farrell. "They're returning."
Platoon four was returning quickly, running down Saint Nicolas Avenue with all speed.
"They're dead!" called the CO. "They're all dead! Audubon and 176th Street, the tanks were ambushed by the zombies!"
"What, man?" Pickett queried, emerging from his headquarters. "What's that you say?"
"The zombies..." the lieutenant was saying. Gordon picked up his ears to hear. "The 86th was moving across Harlem, and the zombies overcame them...they're not there anymore, they took away all the bodies to feed on them. The tanks are empty, and thousands of civilians...thousands of bodies are everywhere. The soldiers are gone. Everything's gone."
"We need to get out of here," Farrell said, nerves overcoming him. "We need to get back to New Jersey."
"We're pulling back!" General Pickett announced. "We're pulling back to the George Washington Bridge! Come on, get up! We're leaving! We can't deal with these zombies here."
"Let's go," Farrell said quietly to his men. "Let's just go."
User Reviews
Submitted by awesome_face (user info) at 2006-03-28 16:32:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
bigger erection
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-12-12 23:15:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"When and if Caes reveiws this, he's going to call all that out."
Heh heh heh.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-12-12 23:13:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"We are Manhattan! Embrace yourselves for what your true nature is—zombies!"
Dude. That's a line that belongs in a B-level zombie comedy. Kind of out of place there. I'm okay with the anti-America sentiment...seems like a logical direction for the characters to go in, since America is all of the sudden trying to nuke them, and what not. I just thought it could have been done more convincingly.
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2005-12-11 22:06:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Always good to read more pandemic. Keep up the good work.
Some mistakes: "aside from perhaps moving in perhaps a single airborne division". Perhaps you put in too many perhaps (sorry I couldn't resist the pun).
One thing that didn't quite sit well was when the Vice President was talking about what action required for New York. He said something along the lines of September 11 being nothing compared with what they would do to the city. I doubt he would compare himself with the actions of terrorists (even if he did have to damage the city more than they did).
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-08 10:12:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
less chat, more splat.
where's #5
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2005-12-07 09:56:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I wrote this a little too fast...I understand some of your criticisms, like the lack of development for Tobias and Jennifer's motivations, but I don't think it's altogether too implausible that the zombies organize into a rudimentary authority.
When and if Caes reveiws this, he's going to call all that out.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-12-06 15:34:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by mbstateside (user info) at 2005-12-06 12:45:03 (#)
Ranking: 2
This is shaping up quite nicely.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2005-12-06 13:55:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
GO BLOODY BUCKET WOOO!
Submitted by mbstateside (user info) at 2005-12-06 12:45:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is shaping up quite nicely.
Submitted by Jimmo (user info) at 2005-12-06 12:16:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
More soon.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2005-12-06 12:10:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
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Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-06 11:19:57 (#)
Ranking: 2
def +2 worthy, not as good as they others. i'm not a big fan of how tobias suddenly wants to destroy america, without much of his thought process being known.
it was still awesome though, keep it up.
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The zombies are at a lesser capacity for human thought, and their primary concern is to find more food and fresh humans to consume in uninfected regions.
Submitted by mbstateside (user info) at 2005-12-06 12:02:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Holy Fuck you're on part 4 already!
I missed part 3 I better go and check that out before I read this.
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2005-12-06 11:56:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-06 11:19:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
def +2 worthy, not as good as they others. i'm not a big fan of how tobias suddenly wants to destroy america, without much of his thought process being known.
it was still awesome though, keep it up.
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-12-06 11:15:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2005-12-06 10:23:45 (#)
Ranking: 2
Good, but I found the idea of the Variant Cs organising themselves into some kind of ideological resistance somewhat unconvincing.
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I don't think it's that implausible, especially if you look at the level of sophistication in the VCs behavior and hierarchy after Manhattan has been sealed (i.e. thecaes' series). Indeed, that makes it a sort of starting point. I hope that was intentional.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2005-12-06 10:28:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I might have written through that section too fast. Tobias is just stirring them up; all they really want is normal humans to feed upon.
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2005-12-06 10:23:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Good, but I found the idea of the Variant Cs organising themselves into some kind of ideological resistance somewhat unconvincing.
Sorry to be picky.
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-12-06 10:17:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This shit is like crack...