The Travis Theory Original Posted Sept 5 2010 By Remmy Meggs

This is a fictional story of boys and teens growing up and as such, is a work of total fiction. Any resemblance to real people, dead or alive, is purely coincidental. By reading this story, you agree that you are at or above legal age in your location, and you are not breaking the laws of your country. I own all copyrights to this/ these files or stories and they may not be posted on USENET or any other site without my express permission.

If the laws in your country make it illegal to or read fantasy stories about minors, or if you are under of age of eighteen or have someone in your presence under the age of eighteen, you must leave this site immediately. This site may cover gay issues, extreme violence and sexual situations.

Copyright © 2012 Remmy Meggs I reserve all rights. You may not upload this file to any site or reprint it in any media format.

For those that are interested, I write Action/Adventure stories with a strong boy hero growing up in different situations. Since I base my writing on the future or history as I know it, then as far as the story goes, it is indisputable. Remember my stories are in the future, or they fall into the historical fantasy genres.

The Travis Theory By Remmy Meggs

CH21

By the time I went back to school, I at least looked normal again as far as my body. I did not have the muscles that Travis worked so hard to get, and my butt was a little flat from lying in a bed for three months, but Travis said it will all come back with a little work. A little work for Travis was like a life sentence in jail for most people.

My first day back the teachers all gave a so-so welcome back and a few of the other kids asked questions but that was about it. Travis handed in all my homework that I missed for the last few months and Miss Caland just stared at him then spoke, "I presume Steven did all the work on his own?"

Travis nodded, "I acted as the teacher and he acted as the student."

She raised an eyebrow, "We will see about that." Class started and school was out before I realized it.

The following day we had a special guest. He was from the hospital and talked about health. We hadn't had Health or sex education, but this wasn't about that. This was about being clean, like washing your hands face, the same things parents talk about all the time.

The difference was he was a little more detailed, like washing your hands for thirty seconds, touching doorknobs, using your cover shoulder to open doors when possible. Then he became more animated as he talked about when to where face masks, special clothing and shoes. He ended with "I hope your families invest in these things to help stop the spread of infectious diseases." Then he passed out booklets to everyone and went to the next class.

We sat there looking at each other like the guy was nuts, some played with the ace masks we were given, and I just didn't think about it at all. I turned to Travis who looked deep in thought. Some of the other boys did too. You know that there has to be one girl in every class that asks questions regardless of the subject and we had to have a winner.

Michelle stood up, "Mrs. Caland? We all know boys are dirtier so shouldn't they wash more often, or not touch us girls at all?"

Mrs. Caland glared at her, "By the looks of the mess each day in the girl's bathroom I would venture to say that you young ladies are much dirtier than the boys, and you shouldn't be touching the boys' anyway young lady."

That made all the boys laugh including Travis. Then Michelle stood up and looked right at me, speaking to Mrs. Caland, "Is something wrong with Steven that we should all know about? After all he hasn't grown in two years, and he looks like he is in the second or third grade. Mrs. Caland he has been sick for a long time. My mom and dad, and so do others, want to know if he is putting us at risk."

I turned red and looked down at my desk. Justin stood up almost yelling, "First not everyone grows the same. Usually the ones that are short and cute like Steven will grow up to be big fat bald guys. Skinny boys will probably all be skinny but will look like a pizza at least until they are twenty-one. Girls always look cute except for their mouths, that never stop yakking, and when they turn eighteen they turn into blimps unless they start watching what they eat when they are our age." You could hear in his voice he was upset, "And as far as health and safety we don't even come near any of you because you have cooties and other diseases! You all look so cute but your manners and minds are like filth. At least boys are usually honest about everything."

I thought `great that makes me happy'. The class was silent for several seconds before Mrs. Caland, regaining her composure, took a deep breath and smiled, "You may take your seat Justin." She turned to me, and then looked at the class, "Steven has had a very hard time the last few months. He is completely well and there is nothing for us to be concerned about. It is he that has to worry about what diseases we bring into the classroom and on the playground." She paused, "The other issues that have just come up you can bring up in Health Class, and only in Health class. Now open up your math books and turn to page 296."

I turned to Tristan, "Health Class?"

"Yea it's a class we are taking this semester. Travis didn't tell you about it?" He turned and looked at Travis, "No, of course he wouldn't tell you about that. I will fill you in over the weekend."

We heard Travis mutter, "The hell you will."

I turned in my seat to see Travis, and then back to Tristan, "What's got into him?"

Tristan made sure Travis wasn't looking then made the gesture for having sex, "That's what we are going to be talking about this week."

I know my eyes widened. I couldn't believe they were going to have a class on sex in school of all places. Although I didn't know where else you would have it. Travis piped up, "We will be in study hall for that class, you're parents and mine did not give permission for us to be in that class." He looked at Tristan, "And there are reasons for that!"

Mrs. Caland spoke to us, "Is there something you boys want to share with the rest of the class?" She wasn't exactly glaring at us but it was an uncomfortable moment, "I didn't think so, now pay attention!" She finished.

The next week of school was great. Everything fell into place and we were all back together again. I felt good and I was happy, even though I was being teased about looking like a skeleton, but a good looking skeleton I suppose, I still had my skin and wasn't eating people yet. You couldn't tell sometimes when they were teasing and when they were not. It seemed to me in a small way I was out of the loop. Maybe just a little bit haywire.

After school I went home and finding myself alone, I went up to my bedroom and opened my books. Of course five minutes later I was bored so I turned on the television. There was nothing on yet, so I turned to the news. When they started talking about a flu epidemic I took notice. They really didn't say much except for the fact it was continuing, the CDC was working on a cure all, and they named a few of the cities where the flu was affecting more than expected. That put the death count to over eighty-three nationwide.

Nothing was said about Phoenix. They said they had a few doctors they were going to talk to. That sounded boring, so I kept flipping through the channels looking for something I would like. The channels came back around and I was going so fast I had to back up. There was my dad on television. I hit the recorder and ran downstairs turning on the big television. I sat there in awe of my dad. The man and woman anchor crew for the show, introduced my dad, the governor and a Doctor from the CDC.

They spoke with the Governor first, asking him what precautions were being taken for the citizens of the Tempe area where the flu seems to have started. What of the students at the University? The Governor spoke about cleanliness, washing hands... gas station pumps and door handles as well as railings being the main culprits to spread this flu.

Then they turned to my dad. He specifically stated he was a surgeon and not a general practitioner. They questioned him anyway, about the number of reported cases and the number of people in Arizona that has died from the disease. Then they were a little more direct asking what groups were most likely to catch this new flu strain. Dad raised an eyebrow and frowned, "Although some children have contracted the flu, the mortality rate is low, however for many over forty years of age it can be a life threatening situation.

Then they spoke with the Doctor from the CDC. The doctor told them that the disease has reached epidemic proportions in Los Angeles, Chicago and New York, but it was hardly discernible in other few states it had showed up. When he was asked about Russia, China, Pakistan and India he hesitated, "We do not have the figures for those countries; however all of them have closed their borders, and stopped air traffic from other countries."

Then they showed a page on television that gave precautions to listeners that came from the Governors' office. The lady anchor ended it by saying, "Regardless of how bad it may get, everyone should remain calm. Like all diseases a vaccine will be developed or it will wear itself out."

That was sort of interesting and I am sure the next day some will have seen dad and bring it up in class. I took a shower and put shorts on just as dad and mom came home. I told them I taped the news cast and they sat and watched it with me.

Dad complained that he looked old and asked if his hair really was that grey. Mom lied of course and told him it was just enough grey to make him look distinguished. She fixed dinner and I cuddled up with dad watching a science fiction movie. During dinner, mom asked about the maid and if everything was alright. I shrugged and told her I guessed so, because everything was clean. She had left before I got home so I wasn't sure what she did, but everything was in order. After dinner dad rewound the movie so we would see it from the beginning. Mom had me help with the dishes, "How is everything at school?" She asked.

"Fine, I was really happy. They were really worried about me. Well, at least they said they were." I answered.

"Did they talk about the flu at all?" She looked at me while she spoke.

"No, nothing was said. Why are you asking about that?"

"I just don't want anyone scaring you." She smiled and told me go in with dad. She joined us a few minutes later and watched the movie with us.

A week later however, things had changed. The news said over three hundred students at the University of Arizona were sick, and the school would be closed the next day until things got better. Two days after that, public schools in many of the metropolitan areas of the country had closed, including Tempe and Mesa.

The following day, our school was still open, but there was a difference. About half the class was absent, and most of the others were wearing face masks and gloves. The whole day was talking about the flu and how to avoid getting it. For those of us that didn't have masks and gloves, the school handed them out, and sent us home, two hours early.

Most the kid's parents did not know about the closing. That meant that many of the kids had no way home. Mac came to the rescue and picked up everyone from our sub division, although it took him three trips.

We were quiet the entire ride. The flu had become worse than even dad expected. The news followed the epidemic almost hourly mostly playing reruns from earlier in the day, or at least saying the same thing. Expert doctors were giving their advice on several stations, but mostly it was just talking with no real help.

The next morning I called Travis. Mac answered. "Put Travis on will you? We can go riding and go to the pool." I said.

The line was quiet for at least a minute, "Mac are you there?" I asked.

"Stevie, I am here." It didn't sound like the Mac I knew, "Stevie, Travis is sick. They took him to the doctor a little while ago, to your dad's office."

"Why didn't they take him to his doctor?" I asked.

"Because we found out this morning that Doctor Carthage had died two days ago." Mac answered. He mumbled something I didn't understand then he came back, "Can you take care of the horses and Travis like he did you?"

"Duh Mac, of course I will I will be right over." I answered and turned to mom, "Travis is sick, I am going to help with his chores."

Mom looked concerned, "Wear your mask and gloves, we can't have you getting sick again."

Then it dawned on me that mom was still home, I stopped dead as I pulled my shorts on and nervously asked, "Mom, why didn't you go to work this morning?"

"The housekeeper is sick Stevie, she won't be coming back for a while. I will have to stay home and take care of things. You go on over and help Travis. Take care of him, like he takes care of you." She faked a smile.

I went to the door, but from the kitchen I heard mom whimpering a cry. I closed the door quietly and started walking to Travis's. There were no cars moving on the street. There were a few that drove by on the highway, but no more or less than normal.

Saturday morning I took care of our horses, cleaned the pool, and then went to Travis' house. I went to the stables and none of the horses were standing. They were dead. It was horrible. Dried saliva and snot was on their faces. I guess they had died sometime in the night because flies and bugs had already started landing on them. I puked my guts out for at least a half hour.

I looked at the house and wondered how I was going to tell Travis. I thought maybe I should tell his parents first. I told his mom, and she asked me not to tell Travis, until he was better. I did not see his dad. Mac looked at me, "Stevie, this is important. You cannot tell Travis anything that you have seen and heard. Just go on as if nothing has happened."

"I can't lie to him Mac, what am I supposed to say if he asked me a direct question, he knows when I a lying!" I almost yelled.

"Settle down Stevie, just settle down. Everything is going to be alright." He faked a smile.

It was then I knew things were not going to be alright. I ran up the stairs and stayed nest to him, taking care of him. I learned to change the bags above his head; I learned how to take him to the bathroom. I learned to bathe him while he was lying down. The few times he was awake he just smiled.

At home the news said all the public schools were closed in the Phoenix area, and most of the private schools were closed, at least until the following Monday. That did not mean that every kid in the Phoenix Metro-plex was ill, but it meant a good number were, and it was spreading to adults. Entire families were out sick, including teachers. Business came to almost a standstill. Even my dad who was a surgeon had to postpone many of the operations because the patients themselves were too sick to be operated on. He used that time to help his colleagues and human services to take care of the abundant flu cases using a triage program. That did not mean he did not have surgeries, especially critical ones, but his normal ones were still low in priority, until the flu had dissipated in the area.

I was well, although Dad and mom both said I was not going out for a couple of more days, well at least out among people. I could still take care of Travis. On Wednesday mom came down sick. I took care of her. Dad who usually went golfing on Thursdays instead helped out at the clinic and stayed on call for emergency surgeries. Between times he would take care of Travis' family and mom.

I looked out to the street from my window several times. Nothing was moving. The television news had said many were dying, mostly old people, and babies. Some doctor that I did not recognize told us the flu was spread throughout the country and everyone should follow a set of guidelines... the major one being if children or babies did get sick, they should be brought in immediately to their doctor or the hospital. He did not mention old people like dad and mom or the elderly like my grandparents. Then what most adults knew already was finally stated, "The C.D.C. has declared a pandemic and the president has declared martial law."

By Thursday, they were showing maps of the United States, and how the virus had spread throughout the country in the last month. Politicians were on every television, the surgeon general gave warnings and tips. That night the CDC came on, telling everyone not to leave their homes for school or work and only send one person out for food and water if needed. They also said many water supplies had been contaminated and take precautions. They said that over 700,000 people died of the flu or other problems connected with the flu in just the last week, and that only included the United States. Mom had me call my grandparents on both sides of the family. When there was no answer, she had me call my dad and ask him to drive by and check on them.

By Saturday, emergency services people, wearing masks, were going house to house. The news said it was to get medical attention to those who needed it. I knew in my heart that they were looking for dead bodies. No one needed to tell me that. For four straight days, no one answered the phones or FM Radio from Travis' house, or any of my other friends.

On Sunday, every channel was on the emergency broadcast system. People were

to put any type of flag in their yards or porches to tell emergency services if someone was deathly ill or dead. Dad had stopped going to work and took care of my mom. It would be a long time before they told me all four of my grandparents were dead, but I already knew. That day was called Black Sunday, over 7 billion people world-wide were presumed dead.

The television was showing children and babies on porches, and in yards crying and starving. One scene was from a helicopter. It was flying near a house and in the backyard of a house was a boy of about six trying to give water to an obviously dead and decomposing mother.

Other scenes were just as gruesome. Another had four guys robbing a store. They were not even trying to hide it. Two police cars surrounded them and a gun battle ensued. One of the two policemen was wounded and the four gunmen were lying on the street. The other policeman, who was not injured, stood up and walked over to the four gunmen and shot them, making sure they were dead. The trial was without delay.

Every so often, we could hear gunshots. For the most part, they were far away. Dad stayed close to me constantly, not letting me out of his sight, except when he had to rest. The phones went dead. The electric went off. Nothing moved. By the following Wednesday emergency services stopped roaming in their vehicles. Flags were posted at almost every house, including ours. The gunshots became more frequent. I knew of at least two gun battles by the amount of bullets fired.

I was with mom, and dad was resting after a terrible night with her coughing. I sat next to her ready with water or juice and ready to jump up to take her to the bathroom if she needed to go. I was brushing her hair and she sighed. I smiled and kissed her. She did not move for a few minutes, so I shook her, "Mommy. Mommy do you need anything? Mommy? MOM, Mom!" I yelled.

Dad came running into the bedroom and sat next to me. He held me tight,

"She is gone son." Mom had passed. My world was collapsing. I screamed in pain as dad held me tight I just looked at my mom. She couldn`t be gone, dad could fix her. Why wasn't he trying to fix her? I was yelling and trying to beat him to death but he was too strong. He held me tight until I finally collapsed in his arms.

The next morning dad took me to the basement and opened an old Marine chest he had kept. It had several guns and ammunition in it. Odd I never knew there was a gun in the house, and dad never talked about guns. Then I saw a Marine Corps dress officer's uniform. I looked at him, "I was in the service long before you were born." He said I had to learn and use the guns because the gangs would be looking for anything to eat, including people. Then he took mom outside, and together we said our goodbyes and burned her body. I sat there in his arms watching the flames.

On three different occasions dad said some the gunfire was military or at least military weapons, and on each of those occasions, there was a roar and explosions. Dad would bite his lip and look at me, "That was a tank."

The epidemic was predicted over fifty years before, although on a science fiction level. Dad estimated at least half my friends had already passed, and almost all of his were gone before Black Sunday had hit. He finally told me the hospitals had closed, emergency services were dead, and the only scientists working on the programs to save the population were locked in labs across the country... no he said countries, working on a cure.

If rationed we had enough food for three months, if gangs did not get us first. We mostly held each other when dad was not filling bottles with boiled water. Soon the water would stop flowing and he was preparing for that. The pump had run on electric, but he had a manual backup that was too hard to use for me. So I would hold a rifle as a lookout while he used the pump and brought up water. Most of the time, we spent holding each other crying over the loss of everyone we loved. I kept my Karate up and weightlifting although each day it became harder and harder to so with the little food we were eating.

Still there was no movement in the entire area. I could get on the roof and see the homes of Travis, Tristan, and Justin. Even with dad's binoculars, I could barely make out the others but I could see them. Nothing moved no dogs, no cats, no birds, or any other animal including reptiles. Insects were multiplying and into everything.

Dad told me if he died, I would have to take charge and do everything he had instructed me on. He told me it was very important to ration the food and water, and to stay safe. He told me of the real horrors that were going on outside. He said that if zombie movies made me sick then think of what the world would be like if the people eating me alive were not zombies, but people like us.

Dad had told me the emergency preparedness that the government imposed at the beginning had one major flaw, as well as the military preparedness. Since the flu was hitting the young and the old, Civil Defense was made up mostly of older people, and those in charge of the Army, if any were left at all, had to be younger officers, and they had probably not been paid since it started.

Two months had gone by before there was a sign of life near us. We were sitting half asleep on the divan when we heard a buzzer. It was still dark outside but there was a faint glow of red in the room. Dad jumped up with the rifle and I with a pistol. Quietly we searched the house, then outside. The noise was coming from inside the house.

We re-entered through the front door, locking it behind us. Dad turned the alarm system back on. Although no police would come if it went off, it at least told us, someone was trying to get in. Thankfully, it was battery operated when the electric was off. This time we crawled on our bellies in the dark. We carefully went through the living room and into the kitchen. We found it. The coffee pot light, warning there was a lack of water, was flashing. The coffee pot ran on electricity, something dad and I overlooked when we shut everything off in the house.

We stared at it for several minutes. Then a tear fell down my father's cheek, "Stevie, don't get excited just yet, but they are trying to get the power back on."

Dad would not let me turn on the lights, computer, or television. We fell asleep on the couch as usual. The next morning I heard what I knew to be tanks. I woke my dad up. He sat up and listened, then carefully peeked out the window. There were soldiers coming up the road, several men were walking as if they were going to be ambushed. Someone was talking on a loud speaker. Several dump trucks were following the tanks, and soldiers with masks on were going into homes.

We finally heard what the man was on the loudspeaker was saying, "If you are alive, turn on your televisions, put down all weapons and come to your front doors."

Dad nodded at me, and I went to the family room and turned on the television. There was a newscast, from the President's office giving instructions. It kept repeating. I called dad and he watched it for several minutes. In our underwear, dad opened the door, and we stepped out, hands in the air.

An officer saw us and yelled out, "Survivors on the left, double time!"

Four men came up to us with fresh water; they opened a ration box and told us just to eat a little. They asked about bodies in the house and dad told them about mom. "We are sorry to hear that." The sergeant said.

Dad saw me crying held me and turned to the soldier, "How many have survived?"

"We don't know, but over all we have found at least one person alive in every tenth home." The man answered.

That was not a very good estimate in my dad's opinion, because it gave no numbers of the household to begin with. Then he told them he was a surgeon, and an ex-Marine officer. The sergeant called the Lieutenant over and the

Lieutenant asked my dad for discharge papers.

I ran to the chest in the basement and picked up a box and brought it upstairs. Dad looked through it and handed the Officer the papers. He smiled at looked at my dad, "Colonel Spicer, I am authorized to reinstate your commission and take you to the Army hospital."

Dad looked at me and turned back to the Lieutenant, "Of course, your son will accompany you." The Lieutenant smiled, "You get your things together, I will have a jeep wait for you to take you to the airbase, and they will fly you to the hospital."

I was shocked, "What about my friends?"

The Lieutenant looked puzzled. My dad took over, "Have you found anyone else alive in Granite Park and if so where are they being taken?"

"Yes, we have found a few, mostly young adults; they have been taken to the airbase, just as we will take you. However, I doubt if they will be allowed to go to the army hospital." The young Lieutenant answered.

I ran upstairs and dressed, I packed all the clothes I could into a suitcase. A Private came upstairs to help me. That is when I realized that most of the soldiers were not very old. Yes, most were twenty or so, but I did not see any older ones, at least so far.

He picked me up and held me and carried my suitcase down the stairs and out to the jeep. Dad came out of the house in his working Marine uniform, and several men saluted him. He was wearing a pistol and a couple of other men came out with the rest of the guns. Dad handed me an automatic pistol,

"Don't shoot your foot off." He put a duffel bag in the jeep. With me sat a

Sergeant in the back, the Private was driving, and dad sat in the front passenger seat. I had no place to put the pistol and the sergeant smiled,

"I'll put that in my gun belt for you until we can get you one."

I wiped my eyes and handed it to him. Dad turned in the jeep watching and smiled, "That's my boy."

I watched the caravan of tanks and soldiers driving up the street. I leaned forward, "Dad, what about Travis, and Tristan? They haven't got to their homes yet."

Dad turned and looked at my tears, then looked at the Private, "Head around the corner."

The sergeant looked perplexed but the Private followed orders, and drove past the troops. I had him stop at Travis' house. I started to jump out, "You can't go near any of the homes, until they have been checked out." The sergeant said forcing me back into the seat.

We waited another half hour before the troops reached Travis' home. The

Lieutenant looked at us then the house. He came over to the jeep, "Son, if this is one of your friends, you need to expect the worst."

I nodded but got out and stood next to the jeep. The soldiers were still leery. They went through the same procedure for each house. Any gunfire from a house, and I knew the tank would blow that house apart, and those soldiers would not take any prisoners, of any age. That meant they had come to rescue others, and had been shot at. Many of the soldiers could have been wounded. It was five minutes before the Lieutenant told them to break the door in and bring out the dead.

I yelled out, "Wait please! If they are alive, they are afraid. Let me go to the door and talk to them, they will know my voice. They are in the basement hiding."

Dad got out of the jeep and held my hand to the door. I knocked. "Mac, Travis, Mr. or Mrs. Brody? If you are in there, this is Stevie, the soldiers are here to help, Dad is a Colonel, and you will be safe with us." I yelled.

A soldier behind us yelled, "Someone was at the window!" The soldiers then became more aggressive and raised their rifles.

Then from behind the door I heard Mac, "Stevie you are out there?"

"Yes!" I cried.

The door opened slowly. Mac could not control Travis' who ran out and hugged me. Mac came out slow and deliberate holding his hands up. Dad smiled, "You can put them down."

Then Mac hugged my dad and started crying. Dad was crying too. The

Lieutenant came up on the porch, "Are there any dead inside?"

"We buried them, months ago." Mac answered the best he could.

"Get as much as you can pack and be sure and get birth certificates and any other ID you can find. I'll send someone in to help you." The Lieutenant instructed. When they went back into the house the Lieutenant turned to me,

"Understand, your friends will be placed in a camp until we decide what to do with them, where they can get food and water, and we can nurse them back to health. They will not be going with you."

They gave Mac and Travis water and a little food, giving them the same warning.

I looked up at dad, "He is right Stevie, if it was only Travis, maybe I could do something. With Mac and maybe others, there is not much I can do for them."

Then a truck pulled up with other survivors. I walked over to the truck and looked in the back where the passengers were. There sat Matt in a little, well worn, pink dress. "Mattie?" I called to him. There was no response.

A medic looked at me, "Son, the girl is catatonic, and she may not come out of it."

"She is a boy." I answered and climbed into the truck, Travis was not far behind. An adult helped Travis and Mac into the truck. I turned to Mattie,

"Mattie it is Stevie, do you remember me? Do you remember Travis?"

Mattie was thin and dirty. His eyes were hazed, at least for now; he was completely out of it. The Lieutenant came and lifted me out of the truck,

"For now you need to stay with the Colonel, once we have papers for you, you can visit your friends at the airbase hospital."

Travis protested and started crying. Mac held him and looked at me, "We know you will do what you can. Get going, maybe others survived that need your father's help."

Tristan did not die of the flu he died of starvation. They would not let me enter the house and they put him and his parents in body bags. All I could do was cry and hold out my arm expecting him to wake up and hug me.

David's house had been ransacked; his mother and he were shot to death, again they would not let me see or touch anything. Joey and Chase were barely alive but would be all right given time. Declan and his mother survived, if you can call it that. Justin and chase were incoherent but alive, speaking gibberish, they may have lost their minds. It took over three hours to finish Granite Park. When I protested, the Lieutenant told us that many of the homes were searched the day before, and survivors were already at the airbase.

Although I was crying, almost as much as I did when my mother died, I felt helpless with the big sergeant holding me back; tears flowing down my face. While they talked to me I heard nothing. I was in shock at the sights and sounds around me.

Dad explained that we would have a house at the base, but I could not leave it until they had issued me a pass and a commissary card, whatever that was. That could take weeks, or hours depending on how processing was going. Boys like Matt and Justin would be put in a special ward, and others like Joey and Chase would be in the hospital until they recuperated, those I would be able to visit, but he doubted I would be allowed on the psychiatric ward where they needed me the most.

Once I had my military papers, then I would be allowed to roam the compound, and the Sergeant added that there are areas that are off limits to even him and dad. That would be where the bad things happened. Bodies were being burned, marshal law had been enacted two months ago, and people were tried and shot for various crimes. Most the hoods and bad guys were killed on the spot, but those who surrendered were given a trial, but it was swift and usually deadly. Those with small infractions were put on work details, more or less slaves for whatever time period the Army judge chose. I had heard that the least sentence was six months but some got up to five years, for whatever they had done.

As we drove toward the airbase, we could see homes blown apart by the tanks. Holes were in many of the homes where they had a firefight. Smoke was still coming out of some of the homes. There were no firefighters around to put out the fires.

The streets were quiet until the convoy pulled into the airbase. There was a lot of activity there. We were stopped at the gate and told to park while they summoned a higher-ranking officer. The Lieutenant and the convoy pulled into the gates with no problem. They were out of site long before someone came to see us.

An Army Major and an Air force Captain walked down to us. The Private and

Sergeant were given a number and told to put our belongings there and come back. They saluted my dad and invited us into a building. I had to wait in the lobby. They had to verify that dad was a Marine officer and a Surgeon. Once they were satisfied, they pulled me in and took our pictures. While those were being processed, they indoctrinated us on the airbase, telling us what was open and what was restricted. Dad would be less restricted once the General approved of things. They asked him to work at the hospital until the Fourth Army Commanding General cut orders for dad.

I was not doing too well myself. I cried a lot during everything that was going on. They wouldn't stop giving me tissues to wipe my face and blow my nose, which I was happy about because I was mentally exhausted and fell apart. The dead and the deaths were unbelievable. Millions had died and many others were hiding out. There were groups of paramilitary forcing themselves on populations in rural areas, some for the good of the people; mostly they were making people into slaves.

There were civil wars in all countries and some of the country's leaders had already been captured or killed. The world was in shock and turmoil. Los Angeles, Chicago and New York as well as other major cities had been completely lost for the time being. Seventeen and eighteen year olds were not being forced into service but officers would plead with them to join.

A corporal came out with name badges and paperwork. He handed me mine and looked at my t-shirt. He grinned, "Should I pin this to your titty?"

"I can wear it on my shorts if that is okay." I said.

"That will be fine son, until we can get you a few shirts." Dad said patting my knee.

They told dad he would have to go to several debriefing sessions during the week and be able to start work next week, but we were allowed to look at the survivors list, and visit tent-city and the hospital. There were salutes and dad led me to the jeep which took us around to see the outskirts of tent-city so we knew where it, the hospital, the commissary, the officer's mess, and other places were.

I had several papers in my hand the entire time that I was not supposed to lose, but I had no place to put them, until dad noticed and put them in his shirt pocket. They took us back to the officer's mess, "You two need to eat, if it is all right sir, we will pick you up in a half hour and take you to headquarters. The commanding officer will want to meet you both."

We were dropped off and we entered the mess building, but it was not like what I had seen in old movies. The place actually had menus, and waiters. Dad ordered for us, a small salad, baked cod, green beans, milk and tea.

I looked at him, "I am starving, and that is all I get?"

He patted my hand, "Let's get you back to normal, you can't weigh more than eighty pounds right now. Your stomach has shrunk, and I doubt if you can even eat what I ordered."

I wanted a hamburger and fries. Resigned to my fate, I ate what I could of the meal. Dad grinned at me, "You can't eat the rest?"

I frowned, "I am full."

While I sat drinking tea, dad went around and introduced himself to a few other officers that were there. Each had their own stories that dad would hear eventually. For now, I did not want to hear any stories, even that of my friends. I was exhausted and hoped that by nightfall there would be a bed with air conditioning where I could sleep comfortably for a change. At that point, I forgot all about my friends and the people out in the world that were hurt and dying and all the others who had died. I was being greedy. When it hit me, how selfish I was being, I started bawling tears flowing freely, in front of everyone. Dad came over and picked me up as if I were a baby. He did not have to apologize to the others, they knew already.

They gave us a small two-bedroom house. I did not complain although it was not what I was used to. No one on the base had the luxuries that they were used to before the epidemic. As each night since I got over the flu, I prayed before bed. Then climbed in, covered up and fell asleep. I was one of the lucky ones. I was lucky to have a father that knew what to do in a crisis, he was a survivor, and made sure I survived.

I woke up to someone blowing a horn. I jumped out of bed and screamed. Dad came running in and settled me down telling me it was time for the troops to wake up. Once I settled, he put me back in bed and sat with me until I fell asleep. When I awoke again, it was daylight. There was cereal and milk so I ate a bowl and got dressed. There was a note on the door telling me to make sure I had my papers and badge on, and go to the hospital and check on my friends.

There was a new wallet with my papers inside. I dressed and stuck the pass badge on my shorts and headed out the door. Several men stopped me along the way wanting to see it. One became angry and was going to take me to tent-city where I belonged, until he saw the badge, and then he yelled because I was supposed to have it on my shirt. When I explained, I just had t-shirts he yelled about that. Then put the badge on my collar. Then left me alone, yelling at nothing when he walked away.

When I got to the hospital, I was yelled at even more. I was checked and double-checked and a soldier was assigned to keep me out of trouble and go with me. I stopped at nurses stations and looked at the names in each ward. There had to be thousands of people there. I went to four wards before I saw the first name I recognized. It was Greyson. I pointed to the name and gave it to the nurse. She told the Private where he was at and I was led down the hall.

"Greyson?" I asked, not sure of what to expect.

He slowly looked up. A smile came across his face, "I thought you were all dead."

"Most died Greyson, but not all of us." I answered.

He jumped up and hugged me, his face always having that pouty look to it. We cried for a long time, even after the Private became tired of standing and sat on a bed. Greyson did not ask for names. I know he was afraid to find out. I did not offer any names. That would be for another time.

"How are they treating you?" I asked.

"They have been great, but I am so afraid. They feed me well, but before I can have the good stuff they say I have to get my strength up." He looked at the pass badge, "How did you get that?"

"Dad was a Colonel in the Marines, so they commissioned him, and that's how

I got it."

Tears came to his eyes. I knew his parents did not make it just by how he reacted. I held him close, "I am so sorry Greyson. My mom died almost immediately. It's been hell for everyone I guess."

"They died horribly and there was nothing I could do." He cried.

I just stood there holding him until he collapsed on the bed. "Greyson, I want to see if any of our other friends are here. I will be back later this afternoon if that is alright."

He started crying again, "Of course it is, stupid! You better be back!"

We left the room and the Private finally spoke, "I guess I should treat you better, I didn't know you were a Colonel's son."

If I would have been older I probably would have said something like, "You should treat everyone nice all the time." But of course, I did not do that. I saw dad in the hallway and ran to him, the Private right behind me. I held him tight, "I found Greyson, and he is alone too."

"We will be moving all the kids to wards for kids. So he may not be in the same place tomorrow. I am having the five to eight year olds moved, and the nine to twelve year olds moved, and the thirteen to fourteen year olds and then the fifteen to eighteen year olds moved to their own wards."

"What about Mac and Travis, and the parents and kids that is still alive?" I asked.

He smiled, "I have to protect the younger ones from the older ones. The parents and relatives will still be able to visit each other. Right now, the kids are in with adults. That is not very safe. Many of these people may not be who we think they are, and some could be people we wouldn't want around anyone's friends."

I understood, in a way, but I did not think families should be separated. Dad was trying to help the majority of kids and I knew it, like it or not. Dad looked at the Private, "I am sure he is safe here but keep an eye on him if you will."

"Yes sir!" The Private answered, "Sir, if it were to please your boy, I would like to be assigned as his escort, permanently."

Dad's eyes became suspicious, as dads do, and under the circumstances probably more so, "Write down your commander's name and I will talk to him about it." He turned to me and wiped my eyes, "If this is too hard on you, don't do too much at a time Stevie. You are just as worn out, and torn up as the others. Make no mistake about that. You need rest too."

"I will stop when I get tired, I promise." I lied.

He smiled knowingly and walked down the hall. The Private looked at me, "He seems nice enough."

I shrugged, "Not when you get in trouble, believe me."

"You think he will assign me to escort you?" He asked.

I looked at him and grinned, "He might, but don't count on it. I am almost thirteen; I don't need a baby sitter."

"I bet your not even twelve yet." He laughed.

I gritted my teeth and said nothing. We walked to the next ward, and the next and the next, and the next, until I found Travis. I did not wait for anyone, I ran to the room almost knocking down and orderly who warned me to stop running as I breezed by him. I found the room and quietly walked in. Travis was between two adults, one younger than my dad and the other a few years older. Mac was sitting in a chair nearby wearing an Army uniform, and a Smokey the bear hat. I looked at him, "You look funny."

"You look funny drill sergeant, to you, squirt." Mac laughed. Then he stood and hugged me. He had hundreds of questions.

Actually, I did too, like how he became a drill sergeant overnight, but I knew dad had something to do with that. I rolled my eyes as if that would ever happen, "Is he awake?"

"No, he has been sleeping since we got here. I hand fed him lunch, but he didn't eat much." Mac said as the Private came up behind me.

I shrugged, "I can get him to eat." I said looking at the tray of food. Then I sat on the bed, "Sergeant, this one is a little scrawny, but there is enough meat on him for a stew. That would feed a few people at least."

I glared at the private, he finally answered, "Well yes sir, but isn't he a little young?"

"When we used to eat little cows, we called them veal. He could be a veal stew; no one will know the difference." I grinned.

Travis did not open his eyes but said, "If I have nightmares it will be your fault! Now hug me 'cause I need a lot of love."

I pulled him up and hugged him tight. Mac looked at the private, "I tried that all day and got nowhere, squirt comes in, and he wakes up."

"How could I not smell Stevie? He stinks!" Travis laughed.

I pulled away, "Enough of that, you need to eat and get better."

He looked at me and was very serious, "Why Stevie? Everyone is dead... we should be dead. I really don't want to be alive anymore. I have seen too much death already. Just cuddle me and hold me until I am gone." My mouth dropped open. I just stared at him. He closed his eyes, "It is okay now, and you are alive."

I wanted to say or do something. I looked at Travis, tears in my eyes.

I finally realized the severity of the situation. We were fighting a battle of survival, and every person counted. The loss of one person could devastate hundreds of others. Mac and all those soldiers knew it too. They did not waste one ounce of sympathy for Travis.

----

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