“Just like the sandbox, brother; the neighborhoods stink and the people all hate us.” Rogers chuckled.
“I like the rules of engagement better here though. They look at you sideways, you feed ’em a bullet,” James answered.
“You two were in Iraq together?” Jesse asked.
“Ha. Hell no. I was there with the Corps in oh-four and again in oh-five and eight. This fucking guy though, he done way crazier shit than me,” James said sarcastically.
Rogers shook his head. Removing a granola bar from his pack, he broke off a chunk and passed the rest down to Jesse. “Don’t sell yourself short, James; you're probably one of the craziest sons of bitches I know.”
Jesse broke off a small piece of granola and washed it down with a sip of water. “So, James, you’re a Marine; what about you, Rogers?”
“Army, born and raised. Grew up a brat and signed on my seventeenth birthday. Played the game for six years before jumping into the civilian side with Dark Horse.”
“Dark Horse? Like the mercenaries?” Jesse asked.
Rogers grinned and leaned back against his pack. “Contractors, little brother. Don’t believe everything you hear,” Rogers corrected. “Security work for the State Department big wigs. When the civilians need someone willing to do the dirty work, they called on us. Guess we were too proficient for our own good; they canceled our contract early. Said we were too aggressive. Took us out of theater and blacklisted us for overseas work.
“No hard feelings though. They had no problem tracking us down and putting Black Horse back on the payroll when the first of the attacks started.”
“Yeah, what did you do?” Jacob asked, now listening intently.
“First, it was the usual shit: watching gates, providing backup to the regular mall cops at the Pentagon and White House. As things got worse, they split us up. I got paired with a senator from Pennsylvania and charged with the protection of his family.
“The guy was a real pain in the ass. I told him we needed to get out of Philly; get up in the mountains, someplace quiet, where we could lay low and have options. He didn’t want to listen to anything I had to say. Stupid bastard thought the iron gates and security system would protect him.
“By the time we got the order to evacuate the city, it was too late. The airports were closed and there was no way his fat ass was getting away on foot. He made some calls and secured a seat on a helicopter; he said the state governor agreed to get us all out.”
Jesse shook his head. “What happened?”
Rogers paused, looking into the dark night. “We left in two cars; the guy wanted to bring everything with him… pets, furniture, all kinds of useless shit. He rode in the second vehicle with his assistant and one of his private security guards. I rode in the lead vehicle with his wife and kids. By this time, I wasn’t one of his favorite people. They set up a helicopter-landing zone on this golf course—a country club or whatever; guess this guy was a lifelong member there. I remember racing across the green and this guy yelling at us over the radio about fucking up the grass. Can you believe that shit? This son of a bitch is worried about the grass while Philly burns.
“It was mayhem. Turns out Mr. Two-Bit Senator didn’t have the pull he thought he did. We weren’t the only ones there, and it was becoming apparent there wouldn’t be enough birds. The National Guard had a checkpoint. They were screening everyone for infection and crosschecking them before you could cross the barrier. A smug officer in dress blues held a clipboard determining everyone’s destiny.”
Jesse sat up. “Did he tell the truth? Was his name on the list?”
“Oh yeah, his name was on the list, but his family wasn’t. I told the fat fuck I could get them across the border. I pleaded with him to make the call while we still had time. Gunfire opened up on the far side of the course. I could see the tracers arcing through the air. People panicked. I saw his face go pale; told him again to get back to the car, and I would get them all out.” Rogers paused to take a sip of water.
He looked down then leaned back, looking up at the dark sky. “He didn’t listen. I watched him turn and walk through that barrier. The National Guard soldiers escorted him away and out of sight. He never once looked back at his wife and kids.”
“Damn, he just left you all?” Jesse gasped.
Rogers took in a deep breath and held it before exhaling. “The Guardsman said the helicopters were going to Toronto. So I loaded up his family and hauled ass. Five hundred fucking mile, six-hour drive on a good day. Ten days later, we got there, his wife and both kids. Yeah, some wear and tear but still, they’re alive. Mr. Senator’s bird never touched down in Toronto. Last I heard they still don’t know what the hell happened to him.
“I keep waiting for it, you know… to see that fat bastard in his Italian-cut suit. Sometimes I find myself watching the crowd, looking for him, to see him out there walking around with those dead black eyes. I’m not sure what I would do. Nahh, fuck him. I know how it would end.” Rogers rocked forward on his heels and got to his feet. He grabbed his rifle and slipped away into the dark.
“That’s a messed up story,” Jesse whispered, looking to James.
James stuffed a large wad of dip under his lip and shook his head. “Don’t look at me, man. I ain’t no open book.”
Marks returned to the hide site and lifting up his small pack then stuffed the radio set inside. He dropped heavily
