The Lost Journal of Private Kenji Yoshida Page 8

Gordon

  It had been a long day.

  Franco’s injury and his immediate evacuation had left me shaken up. And I couldn’t get the image of those old people sprinting across the desert out of my head.

  A cold shiver ran down my spine whenever I thought about it.

  And just how the hell did they break out? How were they running barefoot through the desert?

  It didn’t make sense.

  I needed to talk this over with Gordon. I had to go and see him.

  I asked Drake if he wanted to come to the hospital but he said he was going to grab a shower and get some food because he was starving. I can’t blame him. We’d been out in the sun all day. We hadn’t had much to eat. Normally I’d be starving as well but after what had happened, I’d completely lost my appetite.

  I probably should’ve forced myself to have something. I should’ve at least showered. It had been such a long couple of days. But everything was a mess. And I needed to see Gordon. He was a level headed guy. I needed to hear him speak. I needed him to tell me it was going to be all right.

  I finally found him in an isolated wing of the small hospital of Woomera. It took me a while though because there were barely any nurses. Looked like they were understaffed. The nurse who did point me in the right direction was extremely stressed out.

  I walked into Gordon’s room. He was lying flat on his back with his eyes closed. His head was bandaged. It sort of looked like his face was drooping on the left side. His head had been shaved. A long line of stitches ran down the side of his scalp. There may have been more but I couldn’t see under the bandage.

  And for some weird reason, his hands and feet were bound to the rail guards of the hospital bed.

  Despite all that he seemed to be in good spirits.

  When he heard me enter the room he opened his eyes and smiled. "Got the afternoon off?" he asked.

  “Yeah. We’ve been out on patrol all over the place.”

  “Jeez. They’re working you to the bone. What’s the deal?”

  “I don’t know, man. It’s getting pretty crazy. We’ve been supervising the testing procedures for the town and the immigration centers.”

  “Centers?”

  “Yeah, there’s a secondary immigration center. It’s located out in the military testing zone. It’s pretty messed up. It’s basically a slum out in the middle of nowhere."

  “Oh wait. Yeah I heard about that,” Gordon said. “I had a roommate in here yesterday. He wouldn’t tell me his rank, but I’m guessing he was pretty high up because he seemed to know a lot of stuff. He probably should’ve kept his mouth shut but he was well and truly doped up on pain meds.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Apparently they’re on the verge of rioting at the immigration center.”

  “Which one?”

  “Both of them.”

  “I can’t say that surprises me.”

  “Why not? What the hell is going on out there? I’ve been hearing a lot of gunfire.”

  “They’ve been testing the town’s people. And the refugees.”

  “Testing?”

  “Yeah. For the virus. If anyone tests positive, they get taken away. No questions asked. No explanation.”

  “I guess people are starting to get pissed off.”

  “Yeah, I’d say so.”

  Gordon pushed button on a control panel that was attached to a drip.

  “What’s that?”

  “PCA.”

  “What?"

  “Pain killers. It’s morphine.”

  “Oh. So what the hell did they do to you? Was cutting your head open like that really necessary?”

  “Yeah. Apparently my head injury was worse than I thought. They had to cut me open to relieve the pressure. If my brain continued to swell, I would’ve died. Brain basically would’ve been pushed out the base of my skull.”

  “Damn. I didn’t know. I would’ve been here sooner. I…”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. So what else has been going on out there?”

  I was going to tell him about the fire, the massacre at the unofficial immigration center. And about Franco and how he may very well be infected. And about the rabid old people who very nearly ran us down. But I held my tongue. I didn’t want to freak him out or upset him unnecessarily.

  He needed to focus on getting better.

  “Not much,” I lied. “Since you’ve been in hospital it’s been a whole lot less interesting.”

  “Yeah? Why am I not buying that?”

  “Look, you just concentrate on getting better. You don’t want to be in here forever. You’ll get hooked on that stuff.”

  Gordon closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths.

  “Kenji, listen to me. You gotta be careful. I know it’s getting worse. I know. The guy in here yesterday, the one doped up on pain meds. He told me some stuff.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If they can’t keep this thing under control they’re gonna order in air strikes.”

  “Air strikes? What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, if the infection gets beyond their control, they’re going to level this town. They’re going to wipe it from the face of the planet. They’ll use nukes if they have to.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I was. First they’ll use napalm. Anything that doesn’t get blown up will burn to the ground. In World War Two the allied forces fire bombed the major German cities in their counter strikes. They created firestorms that would last for days. Burn the cities down. Buildings, houses, bomb shelters. Everything. In Vietnam, they used napalm to burn the jungle down. Now they’ll use it here. They need to make sure the infected burn. They need to make sure the virus doesn’t get out. If they can’t stop it with fire. They’ll nuke the place. Vaporize every last one of them.”

  I was speechless. Dumbfounded. Imagining in my mind’s eye a huge crater in place of this town.

  “Nuke the town?” I asked. “They’ll never get away with it.”

  “The quarantine,” Gordon answered.

  “What?”

  “The quarantine. They’re about to enforce a nationwide quarantine. No one gets in. No one gets out. They’re shutting down the phone networks, internet, everything. They’re going to stop the flow of information to the outside world. Believe me; they’ll get away with it.”

  I was shaking my head.

  “Woomera is just the beginning,” Gordon continued. “They’ve tested nukes out there before, out in testing site. The damage from fallout will be minimal. They figure this is an easier option. Sacrifice a few to save the many.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  He nodded. “It’s a last resort but once they make the call, they won’t hesitate.”

  Gordon then closed his eyes again and took a few more deep breaths. “Damn, this morphine is stronger than I thought.”

  “Maybe you should just take it easy.”

  Gordon started to drift off to sleep. “You know wars, battles, fighting,” he mumbled. “You used to fight the enemy face to face. But it changes. Jungle warfare. Desert warfare. Urban warfare. It’s constantly changing. You prepare for the last war you fought and then the next battle comes along and the rules change. The enemy gets smarter. They evolve. But what if the enemy is within? What if the rules change so much, to a point… where...”

  He started to slur his speech. It was taking him considerable effort to talk.

  “Gordon, are you all right?”

  “This virus makes an enemy out of everyone. If it gets out of control there will be no stopping it. Command knows this. The people in charge, the people responsible know this. They are going to do everything in their power to stop it.”

  Gordon then passed out and I left the hospital even more worried than when I arrived.