Angus and Lilly 7, NEW--The 'Clysm Wars

Team Charlie Alpha piled their large Alice packs under the bus, then filed on for their tour through the US.  Only Captain Mecham knew their destinations.  The vaccines this morning had burned like a mother, and Lieutenant Angus McPhearson had a mother sized headache.  He quietly looked around at his men noting they too seemed drawn and quiet from their normal rowdy selves.  They avoided cracking jokes and just sat in a seat and hunkered down for naps after downing some powder the doc said would help.  Angus pocketed his little paper of powder and downed his own Goody’s Powder when no one was looking.

Lieutenant McPhearson woke to screams of agony surrounding him.  He hurtled out of his seat towards Butch, his communications guy and drew back in horror.  Blood tears tracked down his cheeks in mini rivulets; soaked his collar.  The bus driver had headphones on, the noise canceling headphones you might use if you were at a gun range or on a plane.  Doc bent over someone else Angus couldn’t see who, and desperately applied electrodes for the new automated CPR shock machine.  Nurse Mendoza sobbed as she slid a jacket over another team member’s face; Skip it looked like.  Terror gripped him as he looked from one man to the next.  They were all dying, or wanted to.  

The headache was still banging, but Angus was able to work with that.  His symptoms didn’t seem as intense as the rest of his men’s.  He thought furiously, looking for a reason his reaction wasn’t as viral as his team’s.  Then he looked down at his shirt pocket, Doc’s headache powders.  Oh please don’t be that!  Quickly he hid the paper under the cushion of the bus seat; Doc just finished drawing Mole’s coat over his face.  His legs were at odd angles as he’d been laid out on the seat, knees bent as much as a big man could be fit into such a space.  Quietly the Captain peeled the electrodes from his chest and packed up the machine.  When the doctor looked up, the haunted gaze of a guilty conscience peered out at the Lieutenant.  Doc said, “How did you make it through intact?  They are all either zombie-like now or dead.  What was different for you Lieutenant?” 

Angus stared Captain Mecham down, righteous fury in his gaze, “Not a fucking thing sir.  That’s my official statement and will be part of the testimony I give when I testify against your ass and General Dickerson’s.”

Mecham’s eyes were even sadder when he looked back up, “You’ll never get the chance to testify Lieutenant.  The project is still a go despite your failure to succumb.”

Fear gripped at Angus, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact rather than casting about looking for an escape, “Nurse Mendoza is a witness..  She obviously didn’t get the memo.”

“You let me worry about her, McPhearson.  She’ll fall in line, or fall dead like the rest of you.  You’re still going home for testing.”

“Wait.  What?  Home?  What the fuck are you doing taking me home?  What testing?”

“You really don’t want your last hours fussing over details Lieutenant.  Get some rest, though you really won’t need it.”

Unreasoning fear bit at Angus’ spine.  As Mendoza passed him, he gripped her hand, slid his fingers beneath the seat to the slip of paper with the powder given them, and pressed it into her palm with a slight shake of his head.  Carefully she palmed it, gave him a comforting squeeze to let him know she was on his side, and continued to make her way up the aisle.  He breathed out a sigh of relief.  He had to believe in Mendoza’s integrity.  It was the only chance that someone would know, gain justice for his men, him, whoever was about to be their victims.  

He didn’t know what experiment they were using Team Charlie Alpha for, but touring in a bus in the US toward all the GI’s homes while a third of his men lay dead in their seats didn’t bode well.  Even worse, when Angus turned to look at each man remaining, they sat unmoving, unblinking, and completely silent.  Zero animation was the term that came to mind.  Dried blood painted their cheeks and gave them an undead look that only added to the oppressive, silent atmosphere.