be carrying the bird flu or the monkey pox…” Both soldiers backed away.
“You just stay right where you are,” ordered the squad leader. “I’m going to call higher and get a QV team down here ASAP. I’m not taking any chances. No sir, I’m not.”
“What’s a QV team?” asked Carson timidly.
“Huh? QV—Quarantine and Vaccination. If you don’t have an ID and a vaccination card, then you have to go to QV. They’ll sort it out.”
Both soldiers eased further away from Carson, back toward the rest of the watching squad. The taller of the two spoke into a walkie-talkie. Carson shifted from the painful position on his knees to sitting Indian-style on the asphalt.
****
Bob Bullard instructed the pilot to maintain 4,000 feet of altitude above ground level for the flight from Clark County back to his headquarters at Fort Campbell, on the Tennessee-Kentucky border. This was above effecttive small-arms range, but low enough for him to give the land a good looking over. He had a paper air map unfolded on his lap, and he made notes directly on it with a felt-tip marker as he watched the ground slide beneath. He had already put a giant red X across Colonel Jibek’s confiscated thousand-acre estate. The helicopter flew a straight track above the gently rolling countryside. It was still a beautiful region, in spite of the widespread points of destruction. Clark County was horse country, with many farms dedicated to equestrian pursuits.
It had been one of the last openly defiant counties between Nashville and Memphis. The roots of the insurrection went back many years, but as in many other areas, it really took off after the semi-automatic rifle ban. The Tennesseans had openly flouted the ban, and the repeal of the Second Amendment had only hardened their defiance. These Southern rednecks were both crazy about their guns and full of hate for the federal government, which was an explosive combination. Before the two earthquakes, internal ATF reports estimated that Tennessee was at less than 50 percent compliance with the new gun laws. This was a disgrace compared to states like Maryland and New Jersey, but what else could be expected? The South was the South, and rebellion was in their blood. Too many of these hillbillies just would not adapt to the new constitution and its socially progressive laws. Washington could pass all the laws it wanted, but increasingly, it could not enforce them in any meaningful way.
Then, without warning, the New Madrid fault had broken open with a monthlong series of quakes, including two massive ones. The population of Memphis had spilled out into the surrounding countryside, foraging for food and shelter. Across the Mississippi River, St. Louis and Little Rock had not fared much better. A bloodbath resulted when the waves of urban refugees were violently resisted in the countryside. The bloodshed after the quake revealed just how unrealistic the gun law compliance estimates had been: the suburban and rural folk were still armed to the teeth.
After the quakes, the countryside around Memphis was initially pillaged by the starving refugees, until the locals had organized and fought back, killing thousands of purported bandits and looters. Well, as far as Bob Bullard was concerned, every ghetto dweller killed out in the sticks was one less refugee mouth to feed back in Memphis. Even better, every death could be conveniently blamed on the quake aftermath and the white aversion to black refugees.
****
Phil Carson sat on the road, using his pack for a backrest. While he waited, he sipped water from a plastic bottle that had once carried Gatorade. After half an hour, a pickupapproached from the west and briefly paused by the tent. The checkpoint soldiers spoke to its driver while standing well away from the vehicle.
Finally, the truck rolled slowly up toward Carson and stopped.
“You just stay right where you are,” ordered the squad leader. “I’m going to call higher and get a QV team down here ASAP. I’m not taking any chances. No sir, I’m not.”
“What’s a QV team?” asked Carson timidly.
“Huh? QV—Quarantine and Vaccination. If you don’t have an ID and a vaccination card, then you have to go to QV. They’ll sort it out.”
Both soldiers eased further away from Carson, back toward the rest of the watching squad. The taller of the two spoke into a walkie-talkie. Carson shifted from the painful position on his knees to sitting Indian-style on the asphalt.
****
Bob Bullard instructed the pilot to maintain 4,000 feet of altitude above ground level for the flight from Clark County back to his headquarters at Fort Campbell, on the Tennessee-Kentucky border. This was above effecttive small-arms range, but low enough for him to give the land a good looking over. He had a paper air map unfolded on his lap, and he made notes directly on it with a felt-tip marker as he watched the ground slide beneath. He had already put a giant red X across Colonel Jibek’s confiscated thousand-acre estate. The helicopter flew a straight track above the gently rolling countryside. It was still a beautiful region, in spite of the widespread points of destruction. Clark County was horse country, with many farms dedicated to equestrian pursuits.
It had been one of the last openly defiant counties between Nashville and Memphis. The roots of the insurrection went back many years, but as in many other areas, it really took off after the semi-automatic rifle ban. The Tennesseans had openly flouted the ban, and the repeal of the Second Amendment had only hardened their defiance. These Southern rednecks were both crazy about their guns and full of hate for the federal government, which was an explosive combination. Before the two earthquakes, internal ATF reports estimated that Tennessee was at less than 50 percent compliance with the new gun laws. This was a disgrace compared to states like Maryland and New Jersey, but what else could be expected? The South was the South, and rebellion was in their blood. Too many of these hillbillies just would not adapt to the new constitution and its socially progressive laws. Washington could pass all the laws it wanted, but increasingly, it could not enforce them in any meaningful way.
Then, without warning, the New Madrid fault had broken open with a monthlong series of quakes, including two massive ones. The population of Memphis had spilled out into the surrounding countryside, foraging for food and shelter. Across the Mississippi River, St. Louis and Little Rock had not fared much better. A bloodbath resulted when the waves of urban refugees were violently resisted in the countryside. The bloodshed after the quake revealed just how unrealistic the gun law compliance estimates had been: the suburban and rural folk were still armed to the teeth.
After the quakes, the countryside around Memphis was initially pillaged by the starving refugees, until the locals had organized and fought back, killing thousands of purported bandits and looters. Well, as far as Bob Bullard was concerned, every ghetto dweller killed out in the sticks was one less refugee mouth to feed back in Memphis. Even better, every death could be conveniently blamed on the quake aftermath and the white aversion to black refugees.
****
Phil Carson sat on the road, using his pack for a backrest. While he waited, he sipped water from a plastic bottle that had once carried Gatorade. After half an hour, a pickupapproached from the west and briefly paused by the tent. The checkpoint soldiers spoke to its driver while standing well away from the vehicle.
Finally, the truck rolled slowly up toward Carson and stopped.
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