Monster Nation(44)

In a classroom set up for chemistry experiments'big black fiberglass tables, a row of sinks and exhaust hoods along one side, periodic table of the elements on the wall'Bannerman Clark stood at attention and waited while the AG received the same sitrep that Clark had heard twenty minutes earlier.

'The infected then formed what I can only describe, sir, as a human pyramid.' The chief warrant officer giving the report steepled his hands. 'Some individuals went over the top, over the razor wire. Others simply pressed their bodies against the chain-link perimeter fence until it gave way. We attempted to contain the situation but we lacked sufficient force to subdue the detainees. They headed south-west, toward the downtown area. We gave pursuit but again, lacked the manpower to overcome them and eventually had to break contact. Had we been allowed to aggress on them I think we could have done something but we had strict orders not to endanger the infected.'

Clark felt the temperature in the room drop about twenty degrees. Those had been his orders, of course. The chief warrant officer was suggesting, in a not very politic way, that Bannerman Clark was personally responsible for what was happening to Denver.

Namely: it was being overrun. They had lost small towns before, all over the west. This was the first time a real city was endangered. It was the biggest setback of the Epidemic.

The AG put his feet up on the teacher's desk and looked at the two soldiers before him. 'That order is rescinded as of this f*cking minute,' he said. His mouth, under the white stubble of a long day, was as straight as a ruler. 'You will shoot the infected on sight and no more of this willy-wogging. Do I make myself clear?'

'Sir, yes, sir!' Clark shouted, his voice echoed by that of the CWO.

'You both need to hear me on this, because I'm putting you in charge of platoons today. It looks like I'm short on real officers.' It was a slight'a soldier of Clark's rank should be in command of a full company, as many as two hundred warriors. Instead he was being given thirty. 'Chief Warrant Officer, you're dismissed. Go get your men and sort out what vehicles you can commandeer. Captain, you're with me.' The AG stood up and headed for the door. Clark hurried to catch up, staying a step behind his commanding officer at all times. The AG was the highest-ranking member of the COARNG, answering only to the Governor. As far as Clark knew this was the first time in the man's life he'd ever worn camo.

Now he wore the full battle rattle'body armor complete with shoulder-mounted flashlight, protective gas mask stowed at his belt, a tank commander's CVC helmet with Nomex liner under his arm with a clip for his nods'and he clattered down the hallway lined with students' lockers. 'This is your mess, Clark. I don't particularly care to know what you were thinking but I know you're a real barnacle on the world's backside, now, and at least that's something. You were supposed to keep this thing contained in the prison. You were supposed to give us appropriate guidelines for how to proceed when that failed. You were supposed to find a cure. Have you done anything but watch this mess ignite right in front of your face?'

It wasn't a question requiring an answer. Clark stayed at attention and fought the urge to explain himself. He and the AG stepped aside to let a file of enlisted get past, their sergeant keeping them in step with obscene jody calls. 'Don't feel too bad, Captain,' the AG said to Clark as the men stomped past, even their footfalls in unison. 'You're going over Niagra Falls for this, yes. I have my own career to consider. But maybe your friends at the Pentagon can find you a job when this is all over. I think you'd make a perfectly capable dog catcher.'

Clark clamped his teeth shut, ashamed more of the AG's lack of professionalism than his own complicity in the breakout. He didn't say a word as he was lead into an impromptu armory set up in the gymnasium. The AG selected a sidearm for him, an M9 Beretta, the standard weapon for the officer corps since the mid-eighties and a definite step up from the old traditional Colt .45. It felt heavier than Clark remembered'he hadn't hefted one since his last visit to the pistol qualification range, nearly a year past. He fed his belt through the weapon's holster and checked the safety before putting it away.

'You'll at least have a chance to redeem yourself,' Braintree told him. Clark kept his eyes front so he didn't have to look at the man. 'That's more than I can say for the three troops who were eaten alive during the breakout.'

Clark felt his knees turn to water and he consciously forced his spine to stiffen. He hadn't heard about those casualties. He had dozens of questions to ask'what were their names, had their families been notified, were they weekend warriors or heroes from the fighting in Iraq'but he hadn't been given permission to question his superior officer.