Plague Wars Trilogy, page 44
Watching for more than an hour from a low hill, Skull noticed only rarely did anyone have to move a car forward, and even then only a few yards. The people attached to each vehicle usually didn’t bother to break camp.
I need information, Skull thought. This is a good place to blend in and get it.
Waiting until the hottest part of the day, when most people were napping beneath tent flaps or inside their cars, he wandered casually down the hill and drifted into the thin, populated swath alongside the freeway. Picking his way quietly along, he lifted his hand in greeting whenever anyone seemed to notice him, but continued until he found what he was looking for: a relatively relaxed group of four people sitting outside a large but old recreational vehicle, all on the downhill side of middle age.
“Hello,” Skull said in his mildest voice. “Might I trouble you for a drink of water? It’s as hot as the devil out here.” He’d made his face as smooth and unthreatening as possible, aware that his mien wasn’t one to make children leap into his arms.
“You can say that again,” said a tough-looking woman with narrow eyes. “Hold on just a second,” she said as she went inside the RV.”
“What’s up with the line?” Skull asked the two men and remaining woman sitting in the shade of the RV’s attached awning.
“Haven’t you heard about Texas?” the older of the two men asked.
“That it’s too damn hot? I heard that.” Skull hoped a little levity would ease the conversation.
The two men laughed. “That too. No, I mean the New Republic.”
Skull shook his head. “Been out hiking. Living off the land. Haven’t heard much of anything in awhile.”
“Well, I’m afraid you’re going to find lots of things have changed,” said the other man. “Texas has closed her borders.”
“To keep out the Edens?” Skull asked.
“No,” answered the woman. “They’ve decided to go against the executive order for universal testing. Federal troops are threatening to come in to enforce it and the governor has closed the border in response. He’s also put an end to martial law within Texas. Some are talking about the New Republic of Texas. You know, saying they’re the only ones who can legally secede because they were once an independent nation.”
“You said ‘they,’ so you folks aren’t from Texas,” Skull stated.
The woman shook her head. “Colorado, but things are going all to shit there. Bunch of jackboot thugs all up in your business. Figure we’ll try Texas for awhile.”
“I thought Colorado was pretty liberal. Legalized pot and all that.”
The woman spat deliberately and her narrow eyes squeezed further together. “Liberal and libertarian ain’t the same thing, bub. We just figure the government shouldn’t tell you what you can’t buy – guns, dope, whatever. Long as you ain’t hurting anyone else. But the feds are pushing law enforcement hard to crack down, so most of ’em forgot about little details like warrants, probable cause and innocent until proven guilty a while back.” Her voice turned bitter. “So much easier to catch bad guys when you ain’t gotta actually prove they done nothing wrong.”
Skull glanced around and decided getting into a political discussion was a stupid move, like always. Still, he needed to test the prevailing wind on the most divisive hot-button issue of them all. “Aren’t you worried you might get the Eden Plague?”
“Doesn’t sound much like a plague to me,” said the first man. “I could use a little relief from my hemorrhoids.”
“Not if it turns your brain to mush,” countered the other man. “Dopers are bad enough.”
“I bet if you got cancer you’d smoke a little dope yourself, Harry,” the first one said without heat. The two couples seemed like old friends, the kind who could argue without ever settling anything or getting upset with each other.
The first woman returned with a plastic cup filled with water, handing it to Skull.
“Thank you kindly, ma’am,” he said and took a deep drink.
“You’re welcome,” she answered. “Looks like you’ve traveled far.”
“I have at that,” Skull said, his eyes drifting to the lines of vehicles that extended eastward as far as he could see. “All this because of the closed border?”
“Yeah,” answered the second man. “The internet says they’re worried about fed spies and undesirables entering. You gotta surrender all weapons until you can be processed at the welcome center.”
“Welcome center,” Skull said. “Sounds Orwellian.”
They peered at him with blank stares.
“You know. Big brother is watching?”
“Oh, yeah,” said one man knowingly, though Skull doubted he really understood.
“Anyway,” said Skull after drinking down the last of his water and handing the empty cup back, “thank you for the water and the information.”
“Our pleasure,” she responded. “Watch out for the feds on this side of the border. Hear they’re harassing the hell out of people up near the line.”
“And you’re not worried?” Skull asked.
The woman shrugged. “I’ll worry when we get closer than ten miles. At the rate we’re moving, we might be there in a month.”
Skull put on a bemused smile and waved goodbye. He walked east on the pavement between the lines of vehicles. A near-carnival atmosphere prevailed, with music playing and kids tossing Frisbees and balls in the grassy median. Small clumps of people sat in chairs drinking beer beneath awnings while dogs lay at their feet panting in the shade.
Yet some groups looked nervous and hunted. Skull studied them out of the corner of his eyes and saw all the adults appeared exceptionally young and healthy, though many were thin as proverbial rails.
Edens with nowhere to go, he thought. They’re being chased down nearly everywhere.
By evening he could see the border and several hundred police and Texas National Guard troops, faced by what looked like half that many U.S. Army soldiers on the New Mexico side.
Vehicles moving forward in the line were directed through several stations. Cars were being searched, occupants fingerprinted and photographed. Working dogs sniffed everything. It all moved in slow motion on the near side of the border. Once across the Texas state line the processing seemed swifter.
A cyclone fence topped by rolls of concertina wire held several forlorn-looking people, guarded by what seemed to Skull an inordinate number of soldiers. He wondered if they were Edens, people with warrants out, or some other sort of undesirable entirely.
Cop killers, for example?
Guess I could go north around the panhandle of Texas, Skull mused, looking at the newly erected fence along the border. It stretched as far as he could see, at least several miles in either direction. He didn’t relish the time it might take to bypass. He’d been content to rest at the Third Mesa when he needed to heal, but now that he was moving again he felt as if he was behind schedule.
For exactly what, he didn’t know for sure. INS Inc. seemed a slippery fish in the pond of his intentions.
Behind him lay a large rest stop, the last place to relax before getting in the snail’s-paced line to cross. The entire area was jammed full of cars, vans, RVs, semis, and every other mode of transportation that a very creative person could imagine. Skull saw tractors, motorcycles, dune buggies, ATVs, even a riding mower pulling a yard trailer full of camping gear.
Making his way back up the exit ramp, Skull passed waiting vehicles adding to the jam as they tried to squeeze onto the freeway. Continuing backward, he saw a large truckers’ rest stop, a gas station with at least thirty pumps, a hotel that might have rooms for twenty, and fast food restaurant so filled with people that it looked like they had been crammed in there at gunpoint. He was amazed people hadn’t started shooting each other over toilet privileges, but for now, things seemed more or less peaceable.
As night fell, Skull resolved to get across the border somehow. He wasn’t willing to give up his weapons or other gear, though he had a feeling any search would spotlight him in a very unfortunate way even if they didn’t connect him to the cop killings.
Semis and other big trucks abounded, some of them even unlocked, but they appeared to get more scrutiny at the border. The same seemed true of RVs. He needed something that looked clean, innocuous and not inviting of further examination.
Walking around the back of the hotel, he spotted something that might work and made a mental note for later.
Returning to the truck stop, Skull paid for a shower token, standing in line for over an hour to use it. Soldiers were everywhere looking alert, but for the most part didn’t appear interested in doing anything. In fact, several of them seemed to be trying to hit on the prettier women in line. Most looked to be privates barely out of boot camp. Skull had heard the draft had been reinstituted. He felt better, seeing the situation. Draftees had to be motivated and experienced to be effective. Skull doubted these were either.
After the shower and a tepid meal that he had to pay double the listed price for to eat standing, Skull made his way back around to the rear of the hotel. Fully dark now, he sought out the station wagon with the hard-sided cargo carrier on top, the one he’d marked before. A bike rack on the back held two mountain bikes locked to it.
Skull watched the area for nearly an hour until he was sure there was no one nearby or guarding the car. He then walked over casually and examined the padlock on the car-top carrier using a tiny single-LED light. The case was sturdy, but he knew his way around such devices from a locksmithing job he’d had after leaving the Corps.
Skull saw that it was a three-pin and, after digging through his bag for the tools, pulled out an appropriate rake and torsion bar. Fading into the shadows and tuning out the world around him, he focused on the task at hand.
You never knew what you were going to get with a lock. Any one of them might take ten seconds or three hours. Picking was never predictable. If it ended up too difficult, he knew he might have to use force.
This time, he got lucky. The lock popped after a minute. Skull put the tools away, and then snapped it shut again only on one side so that to a casual observer it might still appear secure. He looked inside and pulled out two suitcases and a duffle bag after a quick calculation. Closing the carrier again, he walked around the corner of the hotel where it was darkest and leaned the bags against the wall before returning to the car.
Now for the most dangerous part. Anything Skull had done up to that point he might explain away if caught, but there was no talking his way out of what he was about to do. After slipping on his hooded ghillie jacket and pants, he glanced around as casually as he could before climbing up into the carrier, pulling his own ruck and go-bag after him. He pushed the owner’s luggage closest to the opening. It and the ragged cloth strips might give him concealment if it were opened.
Then he pulled the lid shut.
Taking out his pistol, Skull attached a suppressor and listened. Nothing. He’d been lucky so far, and hoped the owners wouldn’t check or open the carrier in the morning. If they did, he’d try to talk his way out of it as a vagabond with nowhere to sleep, and then flee.
If that didn’t work, there was always the gun.
* * *
Skull awoke to the station wagon’s engine starting. The light leaking in through the seams and the heat of the fiberglass above his head told him morning had come.
Good thing no one opened the carrier, he thought. I was sleeping hard. Would have been dead meat. Must have gotten soft around all those Hopi pacifists.
The car rolled forward and Skull tried to wedge himself in so that his body wouldn’t shift and attract attention. There was a great deal of starting and stopping. The air inside the tight carrier turned hot and stifling, but he forced himself to relax and even doze at times.
The vehicle stopped again. “Good morning, sir,” said a voice near Skull’s head. “Are you aware that you are about to leave the compliant United States and enter the noncompliant state of Texas?”
“I am,” said a man’s voice below Skull.
“Are you also aware that Texas is violating federal law by refusing to carry out the executive order regarding mandatory testing for bioterrorist pathogens?”
“I am,” answered the driver.
“Then please sign this release,” the soldier said. “It absolves the U.S. Government of any liability. I will also need to digitally photograph identification cards for every member in the vehicle, and get an index fingerprint on this scanner.”
“Why?” asked the driver.
“Presidential orders,” said the soldier. “You are entering territory without bioterrorist pathogen controls and may have to undergo additional testing before exiting the state of Texas.”
“If we ever exit,” said a woman’s voice.
“Barbara,” said the driver sharply, and then turned to the soldier. “She’s from Amarillo. We’re just going to visit family.”
“I understand, sir. If you refuse processing, you’ll have to turn around and go back. If you proceed, you are required to verbally acknowledge that you are taking your life and that of your family into your own hands. Do you understand the risks?”
“We understand them,” said the woman, “now can we please go? It’s damn hot out here and the kids are tired.”
“Sir?”
“I understand.”
“Please proceed to the next station. Thank you for your cooperation.”
Skull could really do nothing except pull his ghillie hood close around him and make sure his hands and feet were drawn back. A soldier taking a quick look inside the cartop carrier might miss him.
Well, he was committed now.
The car moved forward again, and then stopped. Skull heard a bored male voice ask a series of questions about what the family was transporting – no contraband, no drugs, no prohibited items, and so on.
Then Skull’s blood ran cold as the cartop lock rattled. “You know this is open?” said a voice.
“Oh, really? No, sir, I didn’t.”
Skull buried his face and waited. Light leaked through his eyelids and he felt fresh air, a sure sign the carrier’s clamshell top had been lifted. Then, the lid slammed and he heard the lock click shut. “There you go.”
Deliberately, Skull relaxed his hand and removed his finger from the trigger of the pistol.
The car started and moved forward at a quick pace, and then slowed before starting and stopping several more times. Finally, another voice spoke near Skull’s head. “What is your purpose for entering the state of Texas?”
“Do we really have to have a reason?” the woman asked.
“You do if you want to get in,” answered the man.
“She’s from Amarillo,” said the driver. “We’re just here to visit family.”
“You got any proof of that?” the man asked.
“Here’s my Texas driver’s license. Will that work?”
Silence reigned for several moments. “Okay, please pull forward to the screening station and take directions from the officers there.”
The station wagon moved forward slowly before stopping again.
“Welcome to Texas. Are any of y’all currently infected with the Eden virus?” a gruff voice asked.
“I should think not,” answered the driver, clearly offended.
“Have you been in contact with anyone who might be infected?”
“No.”
“Have you been to a hospital or medical clinic in the last thirty days?”
“I had a pap smear about three weeks ago,” the woman said sarcastically. “I can give you the intimate details if you’d like.”
“That won’t be necessary,” the man answered. “Are you carrying any narcotics, weapons, or explosives?”
Skull heard a dog nearby, barking insistently.
“A pistol in the glove box,” answered the driver. “I have a New Mexico permit.”
“You’ll need to register that at the welcome center,” said the man. “Give them this form after you fill it out.”
The first dog’s barking was joined by that of one from the other side.
“Look at the doggies,” said a young female voice from the rear of the vehicle.
“Keep the window up, dear,” said the woman. “What is up with all the dogs anyway? They seem to be a little on the aggressive side.”
There was a pause. “They’re here to help with searches. Normally they only get agitated when there is a reason. What exactly is in your carrier?”
“Luggage,” the driver answered. “Clothes and stuff.”
“Can you please be a little more specific?”
“I got five thongs,” said the woman, “and three bras. I forget the exact number of tampons I have, but we can get them out and count them if you want. I might even have a douche kit up there too. You think the dogs are going crazy over those?”
“No, I do not,” said the man, sighing.
The dogs sounded as if they were having some sort of canine fit.
“Sir, I’m going to need you to – ” He was interrupted by yelling and a single gunshot to the rear of the carrier.
“Move forward,” the guard said hurriedly. “Proceed to the welcome center, now!” Then much fainter as they rolled forward, “Shut down lane three!”
The station wagon surged forward again, turned to the right, and then stopped. Skull heard doors open and close as the occupants departed the station wagon. Then came a long, hot wait. Skull pressed his face to the seam and used his fingers to pry open the fiberglass, giving himself some air.
After what seemed like hours, but in reality his Patek chronometer declared was only forty-one minutes, the family returned and got in the vehicle. This time they accelerated to cruising speed fairly quickly and remained there. Wind resistance forced enough air into the cracks of the carrier to give Skull welcome relief.
After several hours of highway driving, the vehicle decelerated before making several turns, and then stopping. Doors opened and closed.
“I’m going to take her inside,” the woman said. “She’s already crashed out.”
