Rend, p.3
Rend, page 3
TWO
19 September, 1924 hrs local
Colorado Convention Center
Denver, Colorado
“Furthermore Mr. President, I believe your stance on the situation in Washington, DC is nothing short of cowardice. To think that we should simply abandon our national treasures just because there is a low-grade radioactive threat and that there may, or may not, be zombies who survived the war is preposterous—”
“If I may, Senator Wilson,” President Holmes interrupted his opponent. “There are zombies inside The Wall. We have satellite photographic proof that they are still alive in there, just waiting to kill whoever wanders inside.”
The senator held up his hands in exasperation. “Miss Munroe,” he exclaimed, “can you please inform the president—again—that it is my ten minutes to answer your question, he will have a five minute rebuttal period during which time he can spread his nonsense.”
“The senator is correct, Mr. President. It’s his turn to speak and you’ll have a timed rebuttal when his allotted time is up,” the debate moderator stated.
The challenger nodded his head and continued, “As I was going to say, the zombie ‘threat’ shouldn’t really be an issue in this matter. With the assistance of our British allies, we were able to clear Indianapolis of the zombies that mysteriously appeared there. We can also clear them out of DC and then reacquire our past. I don’t know about you, but I want my children to be able to see the Declaration of Independence, The US Constitution and our Bill of Rights!”
Senator Wilson waited a moment for the applause of the students in the audience to die down before he continued. “I know that if there is still a zombie threat, it can be eradicated from our former capital and there’s someone here in the audience who agrees with me. Mr. President, I’m sure you recognize your own Surgeon General sitting in the third row.” The president shielded his eyes from the bright overhead lights and scanned the crowd until he saw his cabinet member.
“Doctor Jeremy Collins agrees with me that the zombie threat has been overinflated,” the senator beamed. The president’s expression gave away the sheer level of shock that he felt at the statement about one of his trusted advisors. “He agrees that we have been hiding behind a laundry list of lies about the disease in order to avoid entering the city to recover the documents and goods that once helped to make this nation proud.
“Just last week, Doctor Collins stated that with his antidote available to them, we could send entire divisions of soldiers into the city and clear it of these so-called zombies. Once the couple of thousand of them were gone, we could then safely return to the city and claim everything that is rightfully ours.”
The applause grew to a crescendo as the light on the moderator’s desk turned red. She waited a few moments to allow the crowd to continue expressing their approval before speaking. “I’m sorry Mr. Senator, but your time is up. I, for one, am extremely interested in your comments and I believe that our assembled audience is as well.” She held up her hands to either side while the crowd cheered again.
“Thank you for your statements, Mr. Senator,” the moderator continued. “I remember my first time seeing the US Constitution behind that glass and the sheer level of respect that a piece of parchment commanded. I recall fondly the trips that I took with my own children to see the documents that formed our country. When I learned that a nuclear missile destroyed the District of Columbia, I wept for the loss of our nation’s past. I applaud your stance and determination to see our history restored.”
The crowd erupted into another round of applause that carried on for a full thirty seconds before the moderator turned her microphone on again. “Mr. President, your rebuttal to the senator’s statement that we shouldn’t abandon our national treasures to radioactive decay?”
“Well I guess we can tell which side of the aisle you’re on, Miss Munroe,” the president sighed. “Let me first answer the senator’s statement about his children seeing the items in our former National Archives. Those documents and artifacts are still our national treasures, to be cherished, but at the moment they are surrounded by radioactive particles. Our nation’s best scientists, including Doctor Collins I might add, say that they are safer behind that protective glass than if we tried to pull them out and expose them to the air. That is why I’ve denied requests from historical societies, universities and schoolchildren to ‘rescue’ our history.
“As to your first point about the zombies not really being an issue, well I beg to differ. We have two completely different sets of circumstances when you’re talking about Indianapolis and Washington, DC. First off, the zombies that infested Indianapolis were the secondary infection type, the Type Twos, and those are a lot easier to deal with than the Type Ones. Second—”
“I thought your own administration said that all the Type Ones were killed during the fight at the National Harbor,” the senator interrupted.
“Miss Munroe?” the president asked.
“Please answer the question, Mr. President,” she responded.
“Now wait a minute. The senator requests that I not speak during his statement and you agree. Now, you’re green lighting him to interrupt me. What kind of—never mind,” the president’s facial features relaxed noticeably as he calmed himself.
“Yes, we believe that our forces killed all of the Type Ones—and I’m sure that everyone’s seen the movie—but there’s a difference in the way these things acted. The ones in Indianapolis lined up like sheep to the slaughter and were killed by the thousands and—”
“So now you’re discounting the efforts of our British partners?” the senator cut in once more. “Unbelievable.”
“I had the decency to let you finish speaking, please stop interrupting me,” the president fumed. “You’re trying to put words in my mouth. There’s no denying that General Clarke and his boys are international heroes. And you better believe that I know that seven hundred and thirty-eight of our British partners paid the ultimate price. What I’m saying is that the zombies in DC acted in packs and hid from the fighting until it was advantageous for them to act. That’s the opposite of the Indianapolis zombies. We—”
“All I’m hearing are excuses. We need to take back our city and your administration is too cowardly to do it!” the senator cut in to the cheer of the college crowd.
“This is ridiculous,” the president replied, standing up from his stool. “Until this network can get someone in here to moderate an actual discussion and not be the Republicans’ yes men, then I’m through with this. I can’t believe that you’d allow yourselves to be used by this man,” he finalized his statement by jabbing a finger at his opponent and then stormed off the stage into the debate prep room to a chorus of jeers from the audience.
“Well, there you have it folks,” the senator stood and walked to the edge of the stage to be closer to his potential constituents. “The president is a hothead and is obviously not doing well with the stress of his position. My research teams tell me that now is the time to return to Washington and save our heritage. Why are we allowing our national treasures to remain locked away behind some wall that the president built? Why do the zombies get to keep our city?
“The economy is not doing well, that’s a sad fact that we can’t overlook in this debate. Our revenue from exports is dwindling on a daily basis. My analysts tell me that it’s because other nations view us as weak. Heck, almost every national insurance company has defaulted on policies and gone bankrupt because of the disaster in the former capital and now American citizens have no type of insurance available for home and auto accidents. On an individual level, that’s just not practical. How can we expect hard working Americans to have no way of insuring their personal property? I think the US Government should step in and take the lead for establishing a federal insurance program for individuals—” He paused as the room again erupted into applause.
“Our economy is doing so poorly because no one wants to accept our exports because of the unfounded fear of zombie ‘germs’ on the products. In addition to that, we have a potentially serious biological disaster cooped up behind The Wall. Like the president said, ‘You saw the movie.’ If even one of those zombies escapes, then we could lose this tenuous grip that we have on stability. We need to give the military more leeway to plan operations into the former capital region and wipe those things off the face of the earth.
“We need to show the world that we are the global leader once again. When I’m elected President of the United States, my first order of business will be to clear out the zombies, every last one of those things. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t have done this the moment that The Wall went up. Then we’ll send in specially trained historians, archeologists and museum curators to go into the city and recover all—yes, I said ‘all’—of our nation’s treasures. It’s a sad fact that we won’t be able to live safely in the region behind The Wall for hundreds of years, but I will return what is rightfully the American peoples’ heirlooms and history. After that, we’ll regain our place on the world stage!”
The moderator had to wait for two entire minutes as the raucous crowd cheered wildly for their preferred candidate. “Thank you, Mr. Senator. Your words are an inspiration to us all. As an American citizen, I am confident that you possess the necessary skills and talents associated with the demanding position which you are pursuing.”
Miss Munroe paused for dramatic effect and looked directly into the camera when she began speaking again, “To our viewers at home, I’m sorry that you had to witness the base emotions displayed by our president tonight. In his defense, he has been in office for almost six years and he’s worn out by the responsibilities of the office. The Twenty-second Amendment to the United States Constitution says that if the Vice-President assumes the mantle of the Presidency because his predecessor died in office or the American people impeached him, then those years until the next election do not count against the two-term limit imposed by the amendment.
“While I don’t condone the president’s actions, we must understand that he is under extreme pressure to lead this nation out of the morass that took hold during President Holmes’ first term in office. At the height of the zombie war in the District of Columbia, our nation teetered on the brink of civil war and total war with several foreign nations. The rampant gang violence in the cities and the militia attacks in the heartland, while the military struggled to contain the zombies almost tore the US apart.
“We came to the Mile-High City with the expectation that with less than two months until the election we would have a well thought out and structured debate. Unfortunately, the president had to be reminded several times that he needed to abide by the rules of the debate to which he had previously agreed. Pride and stubbornness sometimes affect every person, even those who have been elevated to the highest of positions.
“The senator’s entire plan for taking back the city can be found on our website, which is displayed at the bottom of your television screen,” the moderator continued. “I’m sure that our producers will also run continuous loops of the president storming out of the debate in the middle of the session. I’m sorry that we weren’t able to get to all of the items on the proposed agenda, but we do have another debate scheduled two weeks from tonight on October 3rd at 7 p.m. Mountain Standard Time. Thank you and good night.”
*****
05 November, 2341 hrs local
Asher Hawke’s Home
Rocky Mount, North Carolina
What a crock of shit, Asher thought as he threw an empty beer can at the television. Although he rarely drank to get drunk anymore, tonight was an exception. He’d seen the polls over the last several months and the actual election was just a formality at this point. The Republicans had expanded their strong family, strong faith and strong country theme to include recovery of the historical items wasting away in Washington, DC and designated the eradication of the zombies as a key component to strengthening foreign relations, which they believed would allow the economy to expand.
The election results were pouring in and it was already evident that the US would have a new President-elect by tomorrow morning. Senator Wilson was intent on throwing away the lives of the military to clear out the city of zombies. Zombie, what does that even mean? Asher mused while he opened another beer and chugged from it.
In his former life, he’d killed hundreds of terrorists and enemies of States but he’d been strictly an outside-the-US asset so he wasn’t involved in the fight against those things almost six years ago. Of course, he was curious about them since his former commanding officer, Wraith, died in the raid to take out the Brotherhood, the organization that created the zombie virus. Once he began working at the SERE School, he’d asked around, but no one really knew much except for the basics that could be gleaned from the news and from friends who were still in the military SpecOps community. As best he could piece together, they were sort of like the creatures from the movies but that didn’t really do them justice. Even Hollywood’s feature film about the event wasn’t an accurate portrayal of the terror faced by the men and women on the front line against them.
The Wall was built to keep those things in, but why were we content to leave them there? If there were only a few thousand of them, why couldn’t we just snipe the zombies from the safety of the outside? For that matter, what did the senator think that he’d be able to do with radioactive pieces of paper besides possibly spreading radiation all over the country? As he contemplated the senator’s plans, he wondered how he expected the military to provide radiation suits for each soldier. Every person that stepped foot inside The Wall would need them and Asher knew that the government didn’t have those kinds of stockpiles lying around.
In his drunken stupor, he told himself that he’d be able to insert into the city and secure the requested items without too much fuss. He wouldn’t hesitate to go back on active status to do so. Those kids that the new president would send inside The Wall would end up slaughtered by the hundreds and the survivors would die of radiation poisoning within a couple of years. Why shouldn’t he volunteer to go back and use his considerable skills to save the lives of those soldiers?
He staggered back to the kitchen and pulled out another beer. He smiled to himself as the label on the 9.3% ABV India Pale Ale seemed to blur in and out of focus while he tried to crack the top. A satisfying pop rewarded him when he finally succeeded in opening the bottle. Geez, why don’t I do this more often? I’m having a good time just hanging out at the house and I can drink as much as I want now that I’m retired. His mind cleared instantly, just like it had done for the previous thirty years when he was in a situation that required his undivided attention. He was retired, but he still had more to contribute to this nation.
It had been over a year since he left the Agency but they still kept in contact with him via email and the occasional phone call. Asher opened his laptop and accessed his email program to send the quick semi-coded message that he formulated in his mind on the short trip from the kitchen to the couch. He scanned through his inbox until he found the latest note from his Retiree Services representative and hit reply.
He typed one simple line along with his authentication code: Mr. Smith, currently not using any of my special skills, request to return to service for the DC cleanup. Kestrel 384362. Then he hit send and sat back to stare at the television. The network had just called the race, Ryan Wilson would be the next President of the United States and the anchor was ecstatic because everyone thought that he would turn the country around.
Asher glared at the television screen. He wasn’t politically minded—which was one reason why he got out of the military so close to retirement—but he hated all this bullshit. How the hell did the networks allow their anchors to support one candidate openly over the other? It had happened before, but never as bad as it was now. There was zero journalistic integrity anymore.
A faint beep drew his attention to his laptop. He slid his finger over the touch pad to wake the screen and noticed that he had a new email message waiting. He tapped on the tab to expand the message. Mr. Smith had replied to his earlier message.
*****
07 November, 0903 hrs local
Rocky Mountain Manor
Denver, Colorado
“Congratulations, Senator,” President Holmes said as he shook the President-elect’s hand.
“You can go ahead and call me ‘Ryan’ now, Alfred,” his former opponent replied.
“And you can call me ‘Mr. President’. I think that I’ve earned the title after leading this nation through the worst time in our history and then the four years of decline that followed.”
“Well then Mr. President, I can see that we won’t be having a friendly brunch anytime soon,” the President-elect sniffed. “I understand that you’ve called me here today for the weekly National Security Briefing.”
“Yes. Now that you’ve been elected to this office you finally have the nation’s approval to get the actual intelligence briefings that you weren’t authorized to access during the campaign when you made all of those promises,” the president stated. “First off, let me tell you in a semi-private setting that your plan to send in the military to wipe out the zombies is asinine—”
“Wait a minute,” Senator Wilson cut in. “I didn’t come here to be insulted.”
“Shut up, Ryan,” the president hissed. “Until January 21st, I’m still the goddamned President of the United States, not you. You will respect this office and not interrupt me. Do I make myself clear?”
