William Forstchen - One Second After

“Vets?” Carl asked.

“Hell, yes. They have anesthesia and antibiotics and, frankly, in a pinch can do emergency surgery as well. Inside a dog isn’t all that different from a human. Same with dentists, podiatrists as well. Get the meds they still have, move them to the clinic we’ve agreed to set up in Swannanoa, and guard it twenty-four hours a day.”

Charlie noted it down.

“Back to the refugees, what do we do?” Charlie asked. “Seal it off,” Carl said.

“We continue to seal it off,” Tom replied, “and I tell you, there’ll be fifty thousand piled up on that road by the end of the week and sooner or later they’ll storm us, casualties be damned.”

“A safety valve then,” Kate interjected.

“How’s that?” Charlie asked.

“We got a pressure cooker ready to blow on the interstate at the gap. Either we have it blow in our faces or we create a safety valve.”

“Like I said, how?” Charlie said, a touch of exasperation in his voice. “Let people through.”

“God damn,” Carl snapped. “I thought this alliance was so we can guard each other’s backs and now you’re talking about letting them in? If so, we pull out of the deal.”

“You are already in the deal,” Charlie said coldly, “and once in, you can’t leave.”

“Jesus, you’re starting to sound like a damn Yankee and I’m a Rebel. If we want to secede out of this union, we’ll do so.”

“Kate has it right,” John said.

“Oh, great, the professor speaks,” Carl replied, voice filled with sarcasm.

“Damn you, listen to some reasoning!” John shouted.

The outburst made him feel light-headed, his hand throbbing.

It caught Carl off guard, though.

“She’s right. We let people through a hundred at a time with the understanding that they don’t stop until past the barrier on the far side of Exit 59. Then they can keep on going.

“They check their weapons in with us, just like when cowboys rode into town and the sheriff met them. We give the weapons back once they’re on the far side of our territory. No food give outs, but for decency sake at least set up a watering spot, say by Exit 64. There should be enough water pressure to run a temporary pipe up there. A privy as well, with lots of lime thrown in and safe drainage.” Charlie nodded.

“We hold them back, like Tom said, and the pressure will build until they just overrun us.”

“What about the threat of disease that Doc Kellor was talking about?” Tom asked.

“I think when comparing one threat to another what Kate and John are saying is ‘the lesser of two evils.’

“If someone is visibly sick, we don’t let them through. Quarantine like the old days. Everyone else, they can walk on through but no stopping; armed guards keep their distance while escorting them.”

“We have hazmat suits,” Charlie announced.

“What?”

“Twenty of them stockpiled in the storage area of this building. They were issued out by Homeland Security a couple of years back. Never thought we’d be using them like this, but would that serve?”

“Damn good,” Kellor replied. “Anyone interacting at the barricades with those on the other side wears a hazmat.”

“Good psychological impact as well,” John interjected. “Conveys authority, and frankly, though I hate to say it, those on the other side will feel inferior and thus more compliant about being marched through without stopping.”

He was inwardly angry for even mentioning that. Uniforms, and the white hazmat suits were like uniforms, had always been one of the means throughout history to control crowds, including those being herded to death camps.

“Water only like I said, sharp watch that no one relieves themselves other than at the designated privy. Armed guards in hazmats escorting them. They’re allowed through and that’s it.”

“What about Asheville?” Kate said. “They might block the road as well.”

“There’s no defensive barricade there yet,” Carl said. “They are assuming the flow is all towards us. We might get away with it for a few days before they organize. If they do, we try some logic on them to just let these people keep moving, or as the professor there said, we mention the water supply and make them an offer they can’t refuse.”

John looked around the room and there was no dissent.

“Good plan,” Charlie finally said. “That’s what we’ll do.”

“One change on it, though: some should be allowed in to stay,” Kate replied.

“How’s that?” Kellor asked.

“There’s hundreds of people from right here who got stuck on the day everything went down. Driving back home, driving to meetings, flying in or out of Charlotte. They have every right to be here and we must let them in.

“Nearly everyone from Asheville who got stuck there is back, but we have people, several hundred, still missing. When they show up we got to let them in, along with those who own property here and are trying to get to it as a safe haven. They’ve lived with us for years; we owe them that chance if they make it here.”

“What about the disease, though?” Charlie asked.

“Well, like the doc said, quarantine,” John replied. “It’s the way things were done a hundred years ago with ships coming into New York. A doctor inspected the passengers. If he was suspicious, they were put in an isolation ward.”

Again a film image came to John.

“Remember Godfather Two? When the Don came to America as a little boy and was put in isolation because they thought he might be sick. We did it all the time then and it worked.”

“Yeah, and look what we got with that guy, the Mafia,” Carl replied.

John realized he had pulled the wrong analogy but pressed on.

“The practices of a hundred years ago did work and we have to step back to them. If a ship came from a port where they knew there was some outbreak of a contagious disease, the ship itself was anchored in the outer harbor until it was deemed safe to pass.

“We can do the same,” John said, looking hopefully at Kellor.

Kellor hesitated, then nodded in agreement.

“Doc, what about the nursing home?” John asked, and Kellor shook his head.

“That place is crawling with every infection known to man. I’d suggest one of the larger buildings at the Baptist church conference center right up near the gap. It’s right off the road.”

He looked around and everyone finally nodded.

“Look, I know I won’t be popular with some of you, bringing this up,” Carl said. “But the outsiders, those that wandered in here the first few days before we sealed off. That boosted our numbers by maybe two thousand or more. Do we let them stay?”

No one spoke in reply, but Kate was shaking her head.

“We’ve settled that here,” Charlie said, and John looked over at him, his thoughts instantly going to Makala.

“Why?” Carl asked. “I think we should of talked about this before our deal was made.”

“What are you suggesting, Carl?” Charlie snapped. “They’ve been here eight to ten days now. Many have integrated in, found a friend or a job to do. What are we going to do, march around town and round them up at gunpoint? It would be one helluva sight and, frankly, tear us apart.”

“We were once all Americans,” Kate said quietly.

“Precisely,” John now interjected. “Those that are here stay. We’ve already made that agreement.”

He looked around to the others. In spite of his speech in the park, he wondered now if views were changing because a food shortage was now clearly evident.

“No different than keeping out those on the other side,” Carl replied. “Maybe not, God save us,” John replied. “I don’t have an answer for that. But those that are in stay.” He looked to Charlie for support.