The Ebola Wall by Joe Nobody, E. T. Ivester, D. Allen Page A

scientific jargon and long Latin words. What he did grasp all-too-well was the fact that Washington and Atlanta were unlikely to ever lift the quarantine. He wasn’t the only one to reach that conclusion.
    Evidently, the government officials leaking statements to the press didn’t realize that the residents of Houston could still listen to what was being said. There were military and civilian satellite communications within the wall, as well as hundreds of HAM operators and dozens of radio and television stations. Yet, despite those capabilities, the feds talked about the Bayou City as if everyone south of Dallas was deaf, dumb, and blind.
    When the citizens began to hear their city described as a “Cesspool of viral mutation,” and a “Breeding ground for an Armageddon strain,” it became clear that the Q wouldn’t be lifted anytime soon. The colonel’s favorite was, “A petri dish for the next extinction event, an apocalyptic germ party.”    
    It was at that point the colonel knew the people of Houston were at war. While it might have been an undeclared conflict, it was a struggle for survival nonetheless.
    Some of the board members had been hesitant to approve the escape plan, many voicing concerns over such a bold move. It was aggressive, confrontational, an act of war. Taylor had been passionate in his response. “We, as a people, have been abandoned, shunned, and left to die by our brothers and sisters. We, the survivors, have learned to value freedom and personal liberty above all else. I fought for the flag that now flies over the wall of our prison, offered my life to defend the country that has falsely incarcerated us. I lost my oldest son in Iraq, my youngest in Afghanistan, both of them fighting to defend those who have casually thrown us to the wolves of starvation and sickness, denying all of us basic human dignity. So my vote, ladies and gentlemen, is to use our resources and defend our rights. Think of the impact to our people. Consider the boost in morale if the plan works. We are sending a message that we won’t go down without a fight…. We are letting the world know that freedom still has meaning in Houston, Texas. We are telling all of the desperate souls who look to us for leadership that their rights as freeborn Americans are our absolute top priority.”
    And it was true.
    To the people of Houston, sick or not, the federal government’s actions had been unforgivable. The suffering, anger, and frustration resulted in a transformation of the average citizen’s mindset. Freedom became the religion of the survivors, personal liberty the most important aspect of their miserable lives. As food became scarce, the running expression had been, “I’d rather be scrawny and free, than a well-fed slave.”
    When the neighborhood riots had morphed to city-wide violence and anarchy, people reminded themselves that they weren’t suffering as much as the patriots in the Revolutionary War. They comforted each other, comparing their scared, huddled, existence to Washington’s Army at Valley Forge.
    For weeks, the funeral pyres illuminated the night skies. Despite the intermittent availability of cell phones or any other medium of communication, everyone knew what that distant glow on the horizon meant. “I might be fuel for tomorrow evening’s bonfire, but I’m alive today,” was repeated all over the city.
    As he approached the now-home industrial park, Taylor paused to scan his surroundings. He was proud of the citizens of Houston, more so than any group of men he’d ever led into battle.
    The colonel’s positive outlook was further bolstered by the previous night’s operation. Being on the offensive was reassuring to any military officer, but he knew they had accomplished more than just a minor jailbreak or providing a morale-boosting buzz within the community.
    No, Colonel Jack Taylor, USMC, retired, was well aware that his side had just fired over 200 human missiles at the enemy. He was