“Wouldn't Norfolk make more sense for a new base in terms of being able to communicate? There's no mountains, so some of the old line of sight type of stuff should work.”

  “Yes, you're right,” the major said, “but we picked up reports of a tsunami somewhere up north this morning and thought we'd be better off further inland.”

  “Plus there was less of a distance to travel. I was in Massanutten for a short vacation, so Roanoke meant there was no need to drive through the more populated areas north and east of Richmond,” Abernathy said.

  “So Roanoke it is.”

  “Roanoke it is. We just need to find a suitable place with enough functioning infrastructure to make a good go of it. We're going to be limping along well behind a lot of other places for quite a while because of the losses in Richmond, but we'll get there—as long as the attack is over.”

  “The mountains on this side of the state aren't going to make it easy, but I think we can help you with some of your infrastructure needs. We've—”

  “Pardon my interruption,” a man in a white lab coat said as he opened the door. “We've made your friend as comfortable as we can, Teresa, but if any of you would like to say goodbye, I'm afraid now's the time.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Jacob reached for the door handle, but everything inside him was telling him not to open the door. He didn't want to see anyone else die, least of all a man he'd come to rely on for so much. He closed his eyes and turned the handle, pushing it open just enough so that he could slip through before closing it again.

  A.J. Deyerle lay on a cot, covered in white sheets, his eyes closed. The room around him was nearly empty and none of the things one would normally expect to see in a hospital were present. Jacob pushed the questions about the facility out of his mind. Was Deyerle conscious? Did he even know anyone was there?

  Jacob walked toward the bed and Deyerle's eyes fluttered open. A smile formed. Jacob couldn't help but smile too. “Hey.”

  Deyerle laughed, though it was short lived, turning to a violent cough and a wince of pain instead. Dr. Tee and her colleague, Dr. Staunton, had said that Deyerle's injuries were more internal than anything and that without a fully functioning surgery ward there was nothing they could do besides ease his pain as he passed. If they couldn't save Deyerle in something even close to a medical facility, what did that mean for the people still injured in Amsterdam? Had this trip been for nothing? Was Deyerle dying for nothing? The thought made Jacob angry, but he fought back the urge to hit something—to yell an obscenity at God for allowing this to happen.

  “Hey, bubba.”

  Jacob took a deep breath and placed a hand on Deyerle's. “The—uhh—the doctors think you're going to be just fine.”

  Deyerle's smile broadened. “I didn't think pastors were supposed to lie.”

  Jacob shrugged. “Yeah, well, after the last twenty-four hours, I'm pretty sure the bishop will be calling for my defrocking, anyway, so...” His words trailed off.

  “I always knew the VA would kill me. I just didn't think it would be while I was trying to get here.”

  Jacob smiled and hung his head, laughing. The quality of care at the facility during its tenure as the region's largest Veterans Administration hospital had been a favorite pincushion for the many men who had frequented. Jokes about the nationality of the doctors hired, the quality of their education, and remarks about the bureaucracy had been commonplace, though Jacob had never received bad care there. He supposed that more than anything, it was a humorous trope about government incompetence from a group of people known for holding a generally scathing view of the federal government.

  “I—I don't want to linger here. I don't want to live relying on drugs.”

  Jacob looked up, the humor suddenly gone from the room and from life entirely. What was Deyerle asking?

  “I'm ready—and I want you to make it happen, bubba.”

  Jacob looked down again, shaking his head and studying the floor.

  “You have to. I want to die like a man—fighting for my last breath.”

  “I—I can't. I'm sorry.” Tears flowed freely down Jacob's face. “I've done too much killing already. That girl at the heliport—those men. I can't—I can't do anymore. I just want to be free of this. I need to be free of this.”

  “You won't be free of it. You can't be. It's what you are—a leader of men. The kind of man who knows what has to be done and goes and does it for those who rely on him. And it's a beautiful thing, bubba. Without you, Amsterdam ceases to exist. And no one wants that. You think you're the shepherd, but you're not. You're the sheepdog.”

  Deyerle coughed blood.

  “Do it,” he gurgled. “Before it's too late.”

  Jacob wiped his eyes, nodded his agreement, and reached for a swivel stool sitting nearby. A.J. Deyerle was going to die in the next few minutes, no matter what. How could Jacob let his friend down in his final moments? He sat down on the stool and reached up, wiping the blood away before placing a hand over Deyerle's mouth and preparing to grip his nose.

  “May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ,” Jacob said, looking Deyerle fiercely in the eye, “and the love of God our father be with and abide in you forevermore. Now go from this place, you beautiful and beloved child of God; go from this place in peace.”

  Deyerle frowned and gave a nod. The words were Jacob's version of a benediction—the words he said at the end of a service. Deyerle tensed his muscles as he prepared himself.

  Jacob pushed his hand firmly against his mouth and gripped his nose closed between his thumb and forefinger. Deyerle grabbed the sheet covering him as if he were willing his body not to fight back. But it was human nature and in a few seconds, he'd have no control over it. His body would fight for one last chance at life.

  Jacob stood, using his arms to block Deyerle's hands as they came up involuntarily, attempting to hit him away. Deyerle pushed his chest out, struggling for air, but each strike became weaker and weaker. After what seemed like minutes, but was probably only seconds, Deyerle's hands fell limp, his eyes closed halfway, and a last muffled sound came from his mouth. Jacob stared down at him, holding on a few moments longer.

  Letting go, he sank onto the stool and buried his face in his hands. A.J. Deyerle was dead.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jacob left the room, closing the door behind him. In the hallway outside, Dr. Tee, Flanary, and the lanky, bespectacled man who had been introduced to him as Dr. Tim Staunton waited. The look on his face apparently said it all, as Dr. Tee teared up and buried her face in Staunton's lab coat. Jacob said nothing. There was nothing to say. They'd carry Deyerle's body back to Amsterdam and bury him along with the others who had sacrificed their lives protecting the community. And hopefully, whatever purpose this facility had, it could still provide the supplies they needed to avoid burying many more.

  A short distance away, Scott Abernathy and Major John Bennett stood. “I'm sorry for your loss,” Abernathy said.

  Jacob nodded. “What is this place? It's obviously not a hospital, so what is it?”

  The major cleared his throat. “Dr. Staunton, would you join us when you have a moment?”

  Staunton looked back at them and then down at Teresa Cundiff, who let go of him. She'd heard Jacob's question and obviously wanted answers as well.

  “This place,” Staunton said, moving to where Jacob stood, “is basically a research facility. One of many research facilities, really.”

  “Research for what?” Jacob asked.

  Tee stepped into the group. “And why were you giving seminars on fully staffed and stocked medical facilities if that's not what this is?”

  Staunton shifted his feet and looked at the floor. “That part of the plan has never come to fruition, I'm afraid. This place is part of the federal government's Regional Recovery Plan—a five-phase plan to make sure the United States is never again the victim of the kind of collapse we saw after the H16N1 pandemic. Unfortunately, only two of the five phases have been completed to date.”

  “And those are?”

  “Well, each phase has three different parts—medical, financial, and military. I'm a doctor, not an economist or a soldier, so I'm afraid all I can tell you is about the medical end—”

  “That's all we want,” Tee said. “That's all we need.”

  “The first medical phase was the complete shutdown of the VA system with the cleaning and repairing of the facilities to ensure there was no further threat from the H16N1. This part of the phase also included staffing them with employees—me—a specialist in infectious diseases. The second phase saw the addition of more employees—research assistants, lab technicians—the acquisition of needed equipment and supplies—”

  “Stop there,” Jacob said. “That's what we need. Equipment and supplies are what we came here for. We have at least a dozen injured men—including Jimmy Cundiff—who need things like IVs and antibiotics. Do you have those?”

  “In small quantities, yes.”

  “How small?”

  “Enough for what you need. And yes, you can have them.”

  “Major—we're going to need that vehicle you said you could provide.”

  “Wait,” Dr. Tee charged, “that doesn't answer my question. I want to know why you were giving seminars on fully staffed and stocked medical facilities if that's not what this is?”

  Staunton shrugged. “I only did what I was told. At the time, it was thought that things would move along faster. But then a new congress took over and budgets weren't approved—things changed. And here we are.”

  Tee stared at Staunton. “I led a friend to his death based on what you told me at my house less than six months ago—a man who helped rescue me from the hands of a—”

  “I only did what I was told; we were told not to tell anyone progress had been delayed.”

  Jacob grabbed Tee's arm as she went to slap Staunton in the face. “Easy… easy.” He held her tight. “He has what we need and that has to be enough.” She struggled and he repeated, “That has to be enough.”

  “It's not enough—it's all a lie. They were lying—he was lying.”

  Jacob turned with Tee in his arms and placed himself between her and Staunton. “Let it go. We have to let it go if we're going to save Jimmy. We still have to save Jimmy.”

  Tee gradually quit struggling, but Jacob held her tight.

  “Fine, but I want it all,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Staunton. “Every IV, every antibiotic, every bit of anything that could be used to save lives in Amsterdam.”

  Tee was livid and to some extent, Jacob couldn't blame her. They'd traveled here under the assumption that what Staunton had previously told her around her family's dinner table was a present day reality. That journey had now cost the life of A.J. Deyerle, but was that really Staunton's responsibility? It was their assumption, after all. Not his. The man couldn't have known about the circumstances in Amsterdam that would bring them to the facility, and he certainly hadn't done anything to invite them. Even if he had, the journey was still a perilous one and far from safe. Jacob couldn't hold him any more responsible than he could anyone else, but he understood Tee's anger.

  Staunton shrugged. “Take it. They're not going to be any good to anyone else. The third phase would have had us prepared for another disaster involving infectious diseases. But an emergency like this wasn't going to be dealt with until stage five so this facility is useless. If I had a family, I'd be home with them now instead of being here.”

  Abernathy stepped forward. “You said earlier that you might be able to help us with infrastructure. Now, I've heard rumors of what you've done in—what is it—Amsterdam, now?”

  Jacob nodded.

  “Okay. I've heard rumors of what you've done there. Is this place safe? Is there housing and food to eat?”

  “Yes. In theory, anyway. We designed the community to be fully functioning with or without electricity and modern conveniences. Nearly every house has a substantial garden. We have farms that produce in higher volume—”

  “In theory?”

  “Yes. All of this was designed during a time when we had access to modern conveniences, so this will be the first real test. We have a backup system designed to provide power to the farms and primary buildings, but we haven't been able to get it to work.” Jacob nodded at Tee. “Our chief engineer, Jimmy Cundiff, was injured along with many others last evening. That's why we're here. I'm hoping that Jimmy can get the backup system running. If he can, the winter will be a lot easier and we'll have time to adjust to the new realities without five months of cold being a factor.”

  “How were so many people injured?”

  “A local militia leader who we've had problems with in the past attempted to muscle us out. He lost, but not without taking more than a few of us with him.”

  Abernathy frowned. “Still sounds like the kind of place I'd want to be. Can you use some more good men? Do you have room for more families?”

  “Yes. As I'm sure you remember, Botetourt County was once a growing suburb. There were many houses left vacant by the pandemic and by the mass exodus we experienced during our previous fight with some of the area militias. You're all welcome. That's the spirit of Amsterdam. Everyone's welcome. If we don't have room, we'll make room. We'll do our best to provide what you need to govern the state, but—”

  “What I'm going to have to do will require a more publicly accessible location. But having a place where I know my family will be safe is invaluable and I thank you for that.”

  Jacob opened his mouth to respond, but before any words could come out the sound of gunfire echoed through the night.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “It sounds like it's coming from sector five or six,” the major said as he led the way through the hallway toward the elevators. The gunfire had gone on for several minutes now and it was clear from its continuation that there was a fight happening.

  Jacob didn't know what sectors five and six were, but based on the direction the shots were coming from, he guessed it was near the same point on the property that he and his group had used to enter. Had the thugs who threatened them outside finally found their abandoned vehicle? Had they attempted to approach the property and met with the same soldiers? He silently hoped that wasn't the case.

  “Governor,” the major said as they arrived at the elevators, “go to the staff's living quarters and stay with your family while we find out what's going on.”

  Abernathy nodded, motioned for Dr. Tee to follow him, and headed off in a different direction as the major inserted a key into the control box and pressed a button.

  On the ground floor, the doors chimed open and Jacob followed as the major entered the waiting area. The rate of gunfire had slowed dramatically, but the occasional burst could still be heard. The major drew his sidearm as they exited through the sliding doors. The air outside was humid and Jacob began to sweat instantly, his shirt sticking to his body.

  Two soldiers with their rifles held at low ready stood beside the support columns of the archway. “What's going on, corporal?” the major asked.

  The soldiers straightened and stood rigid. “Corporal Bradley reported people approaching sector five, sir. A minute or so later there was gunfire and Sergeant Burke responded. He ordered us to stay at our posts. Nothing since, sir.”

  The major looked in the direction from which Jacob and his people had entered. “Give Sergeants Craft and Flanary your sidearms.”

  Yes, sir.”

  Both soldiers drew Beretta M9s from their holsters and handed them over. Jacob took the weapon, released, checked, and reinserted the magazine, and looked at the major for further instructions. The major glanced between the hospital and the east side of the property where the gunfire had come from.

  Jacob stepped closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “How many of you have seen action?”

  The major swallowed. “None of us.”

  Jacob stared.

  “Sergeant Burke was in Iraq for eight months but never had to fire his weapon. Sergeants Jessup, Hill, and Cranston and I were all transferred in from other units in the last six months and the rest are fairly new recruits—just out of basic within the last year. We have more experienced men in the unit including our Command Sergeant Major, but they're not here.”

  “Great.”

  “In all fairness to them they may have shown up since, but we moved out of the armory to meet up with Governor Abernathy early this evening. If anyone else managed to get there, they wouldn't have any idea where we were at.”

  Two more gunshots sounded.

  “We need to find Sergeant Burke and get a report on what's happening,” Jacob said, keeping his voice to a whisper. While he was obviously more experienced and could easily take command of the unit, it wasn't his place and could cause the unit to breakdown even further. Instead, he'd guide the major as best he could through the situation and hope for the best.

  The major nodded and Jacob followed as he moved toward the sound of the gunfire along the same sidewalks Jacob had arrived on. As they approached the area where Jacob had met the patrolling soldiers, they crouched low, surveying the area for signs of movement. In the dark, it would be hard to tell who was who and whether they were approaching friend or foe.

  “Where was Burke stationed?”

  “We created six sectors, each with three stationary guards. Sergeants Burke, Cranston, and Jessup were a moving patrol around all the sectors, designed to take command if anything arose. They should be up ahead somewhere.”

  Jacob looked. Ahead of them was tall grass, scrub brush, and alcoves leading into and out of burned out buildings. They could easily walk into unfriendly fire, or worse—be mistaken for the enemy and fired upon by members of the unit.

  “You're uniformed, you're in front,” Jacob said.

  The major gave a nervous look but nodded. Keeping his firearm at low ready, he crept up the sidewalk, staying as low as he could. Jacob stayed ten feet behind and directed Flanary to do the same behind him. As they approached the same spot where Jacob had been met by the patrolling soldiers after his group had entered the property, he saw a man lying on the pavement. From the baggy black clothes and the red handkerchief on the ground nearby, Jacob knew it was one of the gang members.

 

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