Fall Back Page 10

  “It’s not about the quality,” he said. “It’s the price tag. Just like a Ferrari. Why would someone pay three hundred grand for a car that can do 200 mph when the speed limit is 60? It’s like paying a hooker to hold your hand. Nah, you do it so you can tell people you got so much money that you can waste three hundred grand on a car.”

  “Conspicuous consumption,” Ruben said. “Guess that’s a thing of the past now, huh?”

  Jax nodded. “Another thing we have to get used to: Money doesn’t mean anything anymore. Which means we’re going to be dealing with looters real quick.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we sent the message we did today,” said Price.

  “Yeah?” Ruben looked at him. “What message would that be? That showing up with a gun you have a Constitutional right to carry will get you shot?”

  “Remember who you’re talking to, Chief,” Price snapped.

  “I’m just saying what a lot of civilians are going to be thinking, sir.”

  “He’s right,” said Jax. “The incident today isn’t going to be the last one. Not by a long shot. And we need to figure out how we’re going to get civilians on board with us if we’re going to survive the winter.”

  At that moment, the screen on the wall flickered to life and Jax saw Colton Raines’s face appear. He was glancing to his right at something behind the camera. Then he nodded and turned to face it, and the people watching him. Jax thought he looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He supposed in a way it was.

  “My fellow Americans,” Raines began, then he chuckled softly. “I suppose it’s a little pompous to say that these days, isn’t it? The only Americans who can see this are military personnel in and around Colorado Springs. But I’m not smart enough to come up with something new, so I guess I’ll keep it up.”

  Jax noticed Raines had the rapt attention of everyone in the room. He had a natural way of making people feel at ease that Terry Fletcher had never possessed.

  “Now, my predecessors used to refer to these broadcasts as state of the union addresses, and I guess we’ll keep the name, too. Traditions are important, I think, now more than ever. They help to give us a sense of stability in an unstable world, and Lord knows we have more than our fair share of instability right now.

  “I’ll try to be brief; I know many of you are trying to eat your supper and I don’t want to keep you from it. We have some important developments that will have an effect on most of you in one way or another.” He glanced down for a moment before looking back at the camera. “First and foremost, I deeply regret to inform you that Gen. Geoffrey Benton is dead.”

  Jax’s heart let out a hard thump; judging by the looks on the faces around him, his wasn’t the only one. Benton was the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the chief military adviser to the president, and was famous for being rock steady. Then again, so was Marcus Chase before his brain short-circuited and Jax had put four bullets in him.

  “I know it’s a shock, and believe me, I share your pain. Gen. Benton was one of a kind. Apparently, his vaccination wasn’t enough to keep him from developing Eko. He was given one of the earlier experimental versions, and it just didn’t do the job. He deserved better. Then again, I suppose millions of Americans did.

  “Geoff was absolutely critical to all of you being here right now. If it hadn’t been for his foresight and quick response to the outbreak, there’s no way we could have established this base in time. He saw the potential disaster before anyone else, and he acted quickly and decisively. For that, this republic owes him a debt.”

  “Damn right,” said someone in the room, to general murmurs of agreement.

  “I’ll get back to that in a moment. Right now, I want you to know that earlier today, I promoted Henry J. Archer to the rank of General of the Army and have named him my new chief of staff. Whenever I’m not in the room, Gen. Archer is in charge. I have every confidence in him, just as I have in his successor, Col. Robert Smith. Col. Smith will be taking over command of all of the Colorado Springs bases, as well as Cheyenne Mountain.”

  Ruben turned to Jax. “Looks like Smith’s been promoted since he gave you that bottle. And Archer skipped straight to five-star.”

  “Good,” Jax said. “We don’t have time for politics anymore. I’m glad the president sees that.”

  “So we answer to Smith now? How you feel about that?”

  Jax raised his cup of whiskey and shrugged. The whiskey had helped to dull the doubts that continued to nag at him—at least a little bit.

  “Pretty good, right at the moment,” he said, wishing he was as confident as he tried to sound.

  Raines continued, “I’m sure many of you noted that I didn’t use the term Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Well, you’re right. The unfortunate truth is that the military no longer has chiefs of staff.”

  Across from him, Jax saw Price stiffen. That probably wasn’t news a marine wanted to hear.

  “I’m going to be blunt here,” Raines said. “The navy is no longer an entity over which I have any control, because we’re a thousand miles from the nearest ocean, and we have no means of steady communication with them. And as much as I appreciate and value the members of our air force here in Colorado Springs, the very real fact remains that we won’t be flying anything any time soon. What we need right now, and for the foreseeable future, is boots on the ground, ready to help our civilian population and to establish Colorado Springs as the center of the new republic.”

  More murmurs as that sank in. Jax had known it was coming, of course—so had Price, or at least he should have, since Archer had made it fairly clear at the meeting where they’d met.

  “As of now, all military personnel are under the umbrella of the United States Army and under the command of Gen. Archer. You’ll keep your ranks, obviously; you’ve worked hard to achieve them. We’ll figure out the chain of command over the coming weeks.”

  Price scowled. Jax was beginning to think it was his default expression. “I guess that’s that,” he said.

  “If you have a better idea, I’m sure the president would love to hear it,” Jax sniped. “The last thing we need in this situation is more pointless politics.”

  “And now comes the worst part of my job,” Raines sighed, running a hand through his hair. “If I’d had any idea I’d be doing something like this back when I put my name in the political ring, I would have jumped on the next plane back to Houston and taken over my daddy’s shrimp boat. But I can’t avoid it any longer.”

  Jax steeled himself for what he knew was coming.

  “My friends, there are currently more than half a million people in El Paso County who are dead or dying. By the end of the week, those numbers are expected to be even higher. There’s no way to sugarcoat this, so I’m just going to say it: We estimate that, when the outbreak has run its course, the population of Colorado Springs will be less than 20,000 people.”

  The room was silent. Jax could hear hitching breaths around him from people struggling with the news. It wasn’t a surprise—it couldn’t possibly have been—but that didn’t ease the shock of hearing the numbers.

  “I want to extend my deepest condolences to those of you who have lost loved ones to this disease, which I guess is almost all of you,” said Raines, tears shimmering in his eyes. “And I want to personally thank everyone who has been working so hard at Fort Carson and Peterson and Schriever, and the folks at 21st Force Support, who have done so much to make the sick as comfortable as possible. History will never know what you’ve done, but I know, and it makes me incredibly proud. I am humbled by the sacrifices you have made for your fellow Americans.”

  Raines frowned and turned away from the camera for a moment. Jax found himself clearing his own throat, and he wasn’t the only one. It seemed that, for the first time, they were all feeling the full weight of what was happening around them. The collapse of the United States. Hell, of the world.

  “Ahem.” Raines faced the camera again. “P
lease excuse me. As I was saying, the civilians of Colorado Springs are relying on us to help them through this crisis. And we must rely on their help, too, because we will need every single hand we can get if we’re going to establish a new republic that will continue to uphold the principals that made the United States of America the greatest nation on the face of the Earth.”

  Before Jax realized he was doing it, his hands came together in applause. The noise seemed to spur on the men around him, who joined in. The same must have been happening wherever Raines was, because he held off on speaking for a few moments.

  “I’d like to thank you all for listening to me and apologize for keeping you from your supper,” he said finally. “We’ll have many more of these in the days and weeks and months to come, and I’ll try to time them better in the future. But before I go, I’d like to just tell you a little story that I hope will make you think.

  “Back when I was a teenager, there was a major famine in Ethiopia. It was a crisis, not unlike the one we’re facing, that left millions without food. Back in the U.S., a group of singers and musicians got together to record a song—maybe some of you have heard of it, it was called We Are The World—to raise money for relief efforts in Ethiopia and throughout Africa. It was a pretty big hit at the time.

  “Now, I know what you’re thinking: What the hell do a bunch of rich singers from the 1980s have to do with me, Colton? Stay with me here. This was a gathering of the biggest names in music. These folks had serious talent, and they were used to doing things their own way. But someone had the foresight to put a sign at the entrance to the studio that read: ‘Check your egos at the door.’

  “And, by all accounts, they did. They worked together, recorded the song and raised millions of dollars. Now, obviously, your task is infinitely more difficult than theirs, but I ask you to remember that sign. The people in charge of that recording knew that egos weren’t going to feed starving people. Egos only feed themselves, and then nothing gets done.

  “We are at the beginning stages of building a new republic, my friends. It will take discipline, and cooperation, and above all, it will take heart. I know you all have these qualities in spades. And I know I can count on you all to do your part, no matter how difficult the road becomes.”

  Raines fetched a deep sigh. “All right, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you for listening. Good night, and God bless America.”

  The screen went blank. No one in the room spoke for several seconds before Ruben finally broke the silence.

  “All right,” he said, knocking back the last of his whiskey. “I admit it. That was actually pretty inspiring, considering the circumstances.”

  Jax refilled their cups and held his up in a toast. “To President Raines.”

  The others lifted theirs in response and took a sip, except for Price.

  “Got a problem with the president?” Jax asked.

  “Pardon me if I don’t toast the guy who just drafted me into the fucking army,” Price groused. “And now I see what Archer was doing when he set up our little task force. I’m the token marine, Grant is the token airman and numbnuts is the token guardsman.”

  Jax opened his mouth to reply, but he was beaten to the punch by a voice from behind him.

  “I’m sorry you see it that way, Major,” Smith said as he approached the table. “Anything I can do to change your mind?”

  The rest of the table stood and saluted. “Congratulations on your promotion, sir,” Jax offered, but Smith ignored him.

  Price was eyeing Smith warily. Smith, for his part, looked as impassive as ever, his hands clasped behind his back. “Well?” he asked.

  Price waited a few beats before answering. “No sir,” he said. “Checking my ego at the door.”

  Smith nodded. “Good. Now I’d appreciate it if you stopped leaving your brain at the door. Be thankful all you ended up with was that bandage after your performance at the high school today. Anything like that happens again and you’ll find yourself a private again, and I don’t think I need to tell you what kind of jobs you’ll be doing. I’m sure you’re aware that Eko victims shit themselves quite badly before they die.”

  Jax looked away to avoid Price’s gaze. He hadn’t told Smith anything about the firefight, but someone obviously had. Good. Price had proved himself to be an unreliable hothead in combat, and Jax didn’t want anyone like that on his team. Even if he was one lucky sonofabitch.

  “Yessir,” Price said. His voice was calm, but Jax swore he could hear teeth grinding.

  Smith turned to Ruben and reached into his pocket. “Chief Lambert,” he said. “I’ve got something for you while I’m here.”

  Ruben and Jax exchanged glances before Smith’s hand appeared and tossed two metal objects onto the table. They clanked as they landed and gleamed in the fluorescent lights. Jax recognized the pair of silver bars immediately.

  “Get those on your shoulders ASAP, soldier.”

  Ruben’s eyes were wide. “First lieutenant? Sir, I don’t have officer training.”

  Smith looked mildly annoyed. “Lieutenant, I’ll give you this piece of advice once: Don’t argue with me. You’ll always end up regretting it.”

  “Yessir,” Ruben said, saluting. “Thank you, sir.”

  “And give your CWO bars to Cruz the next time you see her. She’s you from now on.”

  He gave them a curt salute and headed for the door. They watched him leave in stunned silence. Once he was out the door, Jax turned to Ruben, shaking his head.

  “First Louie,” he said, grinning ruefully. “You’re going to be insufferable now, aren’t you?”

  “I think I might have to be,” Ruben breathed, staring at the bars in his hands. “For a while, anyway.”

  “Don’t spend your raise all in one place,” Price grumbled before tossing his empty Styrofoam cup on the table and stalking out of the mess hall.

  The other Echoes clapped Ruben on the back and toasted his promotion. As they did, Jax saw Val Cruz enter the mess. She caught sight of their table and jogged over to his side.

  “Ruben’s got something for you,” Jax grinned.

  The look on her face told him she wasn’t in a mood to celebrate.

  “I need you to come with me, Captain,” she said in a low voice. “It’s Hayley.”

  Chapter 14

  “She’s been like this since early afternoon,” Val whispered. “She won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

  They were in the hallway outside the room that served as their quarters. Jax could see Hayley’s back turned toward the doorway. Her back trembled softly, a sure sign she was crying.

  “She didn’t say anything?” he asked. He’d faced live fire earlier in the day without fear, but the thought of talking to a ten-year-old girl terrified him.

  Val shook her head. “All she says is there’s nothing wrong.”

  “If you can’t figure it out, what hope do I have?”

  “Sir, with all due respect, you’re that girl’s guardian. You’re the only link she has to her mother. Now get the hell in there and talk to her before I kick your ass.”

  He gave her a sidelong look. “Make someone a chief warrant officer and suddenly they’re giving orders.”

  She jerked her thumb at the door; he nodded and walked toward the bunk she shared with Hayley until the girl’s back was at his eye level.

  “Hayley?” he said softly. “Everything okay?”

  “Uh-huh.” She snuffled back tears. The plastic eyes of her panda stared at him over her shoulder.

  He took a deep breath. “Are you sure? You don’t sound okay.”

  She rolled over to face him, a move he took as a win until he saw her red-rimmed eyes. It was enough to make his belly curl up in a ball. He’d seen wounded men more times than he could remember, yet the sight of this heartbroken girl stabbed him like an icepick.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you scared?”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you sick?”


  She snuffled and shook her head again, giving her bear an unconscious squeeze.

  “You’re going to have to give me a little more to go on, kiddo. Can you tell me what’s the matter?”

  Jax glanced into the hallway to see Val leaning against the door frame, hugging herself. She was as concerned as he was. It occurred to him that he had all but dumped the girl on her since the moment they’d arrived at the airport in Stuttgart. Hayley wasn’t Cruz’s responsibility; she was his.

  He turned to face the girl again. She finally met his eyes, and as she did, tears streamed out of her own and down her red cheeks.

  “I can’t remember her face,” she whezed. “I-I can’t remember what she looked like.”

  The cramp in his heart reminded him of the moment when he’d realized that Rachel was finally gone. A bleak powerlessness that felt like a cold wind blowing through his soul. The poor kid—it had never occurred to him in all that time that she didn’t have any photos of her mother.

  “Oh, sweetie.” Before he realized he’d done it, his hand was on her cheek. “I’m so sorry. We totally forgot to bring your phone with us when we came. And I bet your computer doesn’t work anymore, does it?”

  She shook her head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his own cell, the cheap Chinese one that wouldn’t hold a charge. The fates were kind enough to allow it to be working at that moment.

  “Here,” he said, calling up a photo of Rachel in oversized sunglasses, grinning like a Cheshire cat at an ice cream shop in downtown Boblingen.

  As he showed it to her, he watched her face change, as if a light had been shone on it. The relief in her expression was almost palpable, and the tears suddenly doubled.

  “Can I look at more?” she asked.

  “Of course. I think they’re all of your mom and you, anyway. There might be a few of me and Ruben, but we’re not pretty like you guys.”

  She slid her thumb across the glass surface of the phone, stopping to drink in each image. As she did, Val sidled up to the bunk.