Read Online Zombies vs Polar Bears: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 5 by E.E. Isherwood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: E.E. Isherwood
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No
big genocides had happened recently, that he could remember.
“You think so, huh? But until this conversation you weren't
even aware the word existed, or that nearly the equivalent of the
population of the United States was rounded up and exterminated in
the last hundred years. How can you say something can't happen, if
you don't even know it exists?”
No one had any retort.
Jason continued. “How many people do you think have been
killed by this plague? Millions? Billions? Almost everyone?”
Liam stopped. “Wait just a damn minute. Are you saying that
governments put out this plague to kill their own citizens? How does
that even make sense?”
“I'll answer your question with a question. How does it make
sense that the Soviet Union killed almost seventy million of its
own people ? Who do you think makes the decisions of government?”
“Politicians?”
“Wrong. Bureaucrats. The true engine of the state. It took
people to drive the Jews in cattle cars to the ovens. It took people
to march the walking dead into the gulag archipelago of Russia. And
it took people to create and disperse the bug that killed us all.”
He gave Liam a serious look.
“This was no accident, Liam. You have to know that. And the
people who did it are in our own government. And they want you dead,
you dead, you dead, and me dead.”
“But why,” asked Victoria in almost a whisper.
“That's what the Patriot Snowball was all about. We wanted
to expose the faceless bureaucrats. Who were the anonymous political
action committees, corporate shills, and lobbyists behind all the
decisions made at the highest levels of government? Who was really in
control of the most powerful and potentially destructive force in
modern history? And these days, we want to know what they knew about
the virus.”
“An NIS agent spilled the beans. He said it was the
President who released it.”
“Partial credit, my friend. Partial credit.”
Jason looked to the path up the side of the escarpment.
“We're almost back to my people. We'll have to continue this
later.”
“Wait,” Victoria cried. “Are you some kind of
secret agent? How did you learn all this stuff?”
“Agent? No,” he said with a chortle, “I was a
lowly college professor. Educators are popular with our group.”
He pointed at his temple, then tapped it with a smile. “We know
where the bodies are buried.”
Chapter
4: Jason Hawkes
When the group reached the top of the bluff overlooking the
Mississippi River, Liam was reacquainted with the desperate group of
survivors huddled in the woods up there. On his last pass through,
the people were patiently waiting for their opportunity to cross to
Illinois. He figured some of them had made the trip, but he also
guessed there were more today than there were two days ago.
Jason walked them right into a circle of serious-looking men and
women in various types of camouflage clothing, tending radios.
“This is the heart of our network. Old-school shortwave
radios.”
Liam whispered to Jason. “Won't they track you here?”
“We only listen, up here. We move around if we need to
broadcast. We, uh, have a central leadership team that feeds us news
and orders.”
Liam wondered if his dad had been a part of that leadership team.
If his note was true, he almost certainly was. He kept that to
himself, for now, and showed genuine appreciation for the people
listening to the radios. They played their part to keep people alive.
“Excuse me. I need to check in. You can make yourselves
comfortable in the waiting room.” He pointed to a clump of
trees with a smile. “We also have some bottles of water.”
Bottled water was ubiquitous. It was almost as if someone
para-dropped pallets of plastic water bottles into St. Louis because
everyone carried one. Those sitting in the dry leaves where Jason had
pointed were still sealed, which was good. He dodged a bullet when he
drank the creek water the other day; an activity he wanted to
big genocides had happened recently, that he could remember.
“You think so, huh? But until this conversation you weren't
even aware the word existed, or that nearly the equivalent of the
population of the United States was rounded up and exterminated in
the last hundred years. How can you say something can't happen, if
you don't even know it exists?”
No one had any retort.
Jason continued. “How many people do you think have been
killed by this plague? Millions? Billions? Almost everyone?”
Liam stopped. “Wait just a damn minute. Are you saying that
governments put out this plague to kill their own citizens? How does
that even make sense?”
“I'll answer your question with a question. How does it make
sense that the Soviet Union killed almost seventy million of its
own people ? Who do you think makes the decisions of government?”
“Politicians?”
“Wrong. Bureaucrats. The true engine of the state. It took
people to drive the Jews in cattle cars to the ovens. It took people
to march the walking dead into the gulag archipelago of Russia. And
it took people to create and disperse the bug that killed us all.”
He gave Liam a serious look.
“This was no accident, Liam. You have to know that. And the
people who did it are in our own government. And they want you dead,
you dead, you dead, and me dead.”
“But why,” asked Victoria in almost a whisper.
“That's what the Patriot Snowball was all about. We wanted
to expose the faceless bureaucrats. Who were the anonymous political
action committees, corporate shills, and lobbyists behind all the
decisions made at the highest levels of government? Who was really in
control of the most powerful and potentially destructive force in
modern history? And these days, we want to know what they knew about
the virus.”
“An NIS agent spilled the beans. He said it was the
President who released it.”
“Partial credit, my friend. Partial credit.”
Jason looked to the path up the side of the escarpment.
“We're almost back to my people. We'll have to continue this
later.”
“Wait,” Victoria cried. “Are you some kind of
secret agent? How did you learn all this stuff?”
“Agent? No,” he said with a chortle, “I was a
lowly college professor. Educators are popular with our group.”
He pointed at his temple, then tapped it with a smile. “We know
where the bodies are buried.”
Chapter
4: Jason Hawkes
When the group reached the top of the bluff overlooking the
Mississippi River, Liam was reacquainted with the desperate group of
survivors huddled in the woods up there. On his last pass through,
the people were patiently waiting for their opportunity to cross to
Illinois. He figured some of them had made the trip, but he also
guessed there were more today than there were two days ago.
Jason walked them right into a circle of serious-looking men and
women in various types of camouflage clothing, tending radios.
“This is the heart of our network. Old-school shortwave
radios.”
Liam whispered to Jason. “Won't they track you here?”
“We only listen, up here. We move around if we need to
broadcast. We, uh, have a central leadership team that feeds us news
and orders.”
Liam wondered if his dad had been a part of that leadership team.
If his note was true, he almost certainly was. He kept that to
himself, for now, and showed genuine appreciation for the people
listening to the radios. They played their part to keep people alive.
“Excuse me. I need to check in. You can make yourselves
comfortable in the waiting room.” He pointed to a clump of
trees with a smile. “We also have some bottles of water.”
Bottled water was ubiquitous. It was almost as if someone
para-dropped pallets of plastic water bottles into St. Louis because
everyone carried one. Those sitting in the dry leaves where Jason had
pointed were still sealed, which was good. He dodged a bullet when he
drank the creek water the other day; an activity he wanted to
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