“You make it sound like Noah’s ark.”
“Think of it as hundreds of arks. Each with stores of food, seeds for planting new crops, fuel. There are agricultural experts as well as engineers, mechanics and scientists, ready to help rebuild.” The enthusiasm made his voice soar. “This is a new beginning. You, Michaela and Greg, can be part of it.”
“How do we fit in?” Nice and easy does it, said the cautious voice in the back of my head. Something’s brewing here. Someone’s been making plans.
Phoenix gushed, “We need people on the outside to bring survivors like yourself to the bunkers.”
“Why?”
“We can provide food, clothing, everything you need. You can make a start by bringing your own people here. Like yourselves, they can rest, enjoy some of our hospitality while we help you get organized into a secure society. You will be able-”
“Whoa, Phoenix. Hold on.” Michaela stood up. “You know we’re still outnumbered out there by thousands to one. The hornets are everywhere. We’ve tried to settle in one place, but they keep driving us on.”
“We can help you.” Phoenix paused. The excitement exerted him. I could hear his breathing rasp from the speakers. “We will be dispatching military units in armored vehicles. There’ll be helicopter gunships. They will use all the firepower at their disposal-and believe me, it is formidable firepower-to create safe home-lands for our people.”
I shook my head. “You mean you’re going to clear cities of hornets. Then what? Build a big wall around Chicago or Atlanta?”
“I understand you might be skeptical after what you’ve encountered in the outside world. But there are areas of America that are largely free of affected people, the hornets as you call them.”
“Excuse my skepticism,” I said. “Really, I want this to work as much as anyone, but it’s going to be a tall order.”
Michaela nodded. “It’s a wasteland out there. You’re lucky to find a single house that hasn’t been smashed to pieces or burned.”
“We can build new houses. We can repair those that aren’t badly damaged.”
“You’re asking us to put our faith in you?”
“Yeah.” Michaela sounded angry. “Where were all you people when our nation was being torn apart and citizens being killed by the thousand? You were hiding here in your bunkers watching Friends or snacking on microwave weeners.”
“Michaela.” Phoenix’s voice oozed with calm sincerity. “Michaela. We were taken by surprise. We’ve needed months to regroup and reorder ourselves. Many of our armed forces were destroyed along with civilians. Besides, we couldn’t bomb our own towns and cities, could we?”
“OK,” she said, not backing down. “Tell me what you and your bunker buddies are going to do to help the likes of us.”
“I don’t have to tell you, I can show you. Please watch the TV screen.”
Thirty-seven
Somewhere in the bunker Phoenix operated the big TV on the wall. One second a sitcom I didn’t even know the name of had been playing, the next the canned laughter vanished, to be replaced by a view of a desert with a dust road and hundreds of Joshua trees. The morning sun blazed down from a cloudless sky.
“This,” Phoenix said, “is the scene from a big military bunker complex in Texas. Exactly where I can’t say for security reasons. You’re seeing this live as it happens. Any moment now you’ll see why I’m so optimistic about things working out. Right-o. We’re going to switch to another camera. Here we go.” At the bottom of the screen ran a code that didn’t make much sense at first: TX 03/23. EXT. CAM 3.
When Phoenix said, “Here we go,” the scene shifted. Now we looked from a camera mounted on some high point perhaps thirty feet above the ground and showing the edge of a large concrete structure that had been painted a dappling of browns and dull yellows to camouflage it against the desert. Now part of the code changed. The first part remained the same, TX 03. I figured that was the location, Texas followed by some identification number. The next code had changed to EXT. CAM 5. That was easy enough to figure: Exterior camera number five.
Phoenix’s voice was breathy with excitement. “Do you see what’s happening now? We’re moving out. We’re taking back what’s rightfully ours.”
I looked out across the desert scene. Among the Joshua trees were hundreds of figures. From their ragged clothes and wild hair you could tell they were hornets easily enough.
“There they go!” Phoenix’s voice rose to a shout as from an opening in the bunker rolled tanks, APCs and maybe another dozen armored vehicles. They immediately plunged into the desert, crushing the Joshua trees to pulp. Seconds later they’d reached the hornets, too. Men and women by the dozen went under the caterpillar tracks or fell victim to guns of many different calibers. Tracers spat fiery sparks across the terrain to drop the hornets into the dust by the dozen. Then came the bigger guns, lobbing high explosive shells into clumps of hornets. They vanished in a flash of flame.
“That’s right,” Phoenix panted. “We’re fighting back. It’s like this all over the country.”
We watched the screen as lines of troops appeared to walk toward the surviving hornets. Of course hornets never run. You can’t even make them flinch. They stood there with their God almighty hammers and clubs at the ready, but the GIs simply picked them off one by one with their automatic rifles. At last the bad guys had met their match. We were fighting back. We were winning.
We sat there for maybe an hour, watching the one-sided battle. When the troops had finished with the hornets armored bulldozers moved out to scrape the desert clean of all that butchered flesh. After the corpses were piled into heaps they were soaked in gasoline and burned. By lunchtime funeral pyres shot smoke into clear blue skies.
We watched as if we’d been welded to the seats. This was nothing less than a miracle. We were seeing the rebirth of a nation. Our nation.
“I’ve clearance to show you some more scenes,” Phoenix told us. “Sit tight.”
The banner at the bottom of the screen contained the text: WYMG (Wyoming?) 04/18. EXT. CAM 2. This time helicopter gunships passed overhead to pour down bone-shattering rocket fire on a cluster of hornets running toward the camera. The same pattern followed. Armored bulldozers shoved the corpses into mounds. Then came the gasoline. Burn, baby, burn. I felt the blood roaring through my veins. Yes! We were doing it! We were wiping out the goddam monsters!
“Next scene,” Phoenix said. He sounded pleased. “You might find this a little different. Again I’m not permitted to give you a specific location other than that it’s an island in Hawaii.”
I saw a tract of grass dotted with palm trees, ending with rocks, then sea. In the distance surf rolled in creamy waves across the beach. The midday sun shone down, making the place look like paradise.
“This can’t be live,” Michaela said. “It’ll still be night in Hawaii.”
“You’re right; this was recorded yesterday. And I think this might be the best news yet.”
Not a lot happened in this scene. Half a dozen guys were lazily playing baseball on the grass. Strolling into the picture came a couple of young women in army fatigues.
“What are you showing us, Phoenix?”
“What do you see?”
“People enjoying the sunshine.”
“Exactly. What you don’t see are any hornets. The crew have left the bunker.”
“You’re saying there aren’t any hornets on the island?”
“There aren’t anymore. We destroyed the last one a week ago. Those people are safe to stroll ’round the place unarmed, take in the sun, go for a swim. Looks great, doesn’t it?”
“It does look great,” I agreed with feeling. “What time does the next flight leave?”
Phoenix gave a soft, breathy laugh. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be patient, Greg. But one day… who knows?”
