Infected Life: Outbreak

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"I don't know why the Colonel volunteered me for this. It's not like you actually need help with this." Garry mumbled, not fond of getting pushed into helping me.

"Could be worse. You gotta keep that in mind." I said, "Besides, it's important. This equipment can't be left behind."

"Do I look like a delivery boy to you?" Garry snidely poked, sighing as he carried the duffels in both hands. "What the fuck's in these? Bricks?"

"Bonsall said it was communication equipment. Said it was vital to keep it in the care of her men. It's the only way she can keep in contact with the other Quarantine Zones."

Garry exhaled, putting the duffels down, "Yeah, well, they can wait a couple moments while I take a breather." I followed suit, setting down the ones I carried next to the ones he carried. Just as I sat down on a crate, someone called our names.

"Jacob, Garrison." I turned around, finding that we were greeted by Virgil, who was wearing a long coat and a utility belt over his greased fatigues. "I didn't expect to see you before we departed for Anderson. What are you doing here?"

"Bonsall's having us move some equipment for her. Communications, apparently." I told the man.

He eyed the duffels, then groaned. "I knew I was forgetting something. Thank you, boys. Hey, any chance you two could come help me with something real quick?"

Garry groaned, "But we already have these things we need to deal with. Can't you find someone else to do it?"

Virgil gave Garry a look, "No, I will not. Both of you, in here." The man walked into the tent, sidestepping a crate labeled 'EXPERIMENTAL'. Garry and I looked at each other, before the man stuck his head out the flaps, glaring at us. "Now!" We both immediately got up, joining the Major inside his tent.

Pushing through the flaps was like walking into a whole new world! Machines I couldn't describe, much less name, sat in various states of disrepair. That bulky blunder was missing a couple doohickies, and that whatchacallit needed its whosawhatsis tinkered with. Other than that, tools and parts were scattered about several workbenches, all leading to a monitor and database. Virgil was typing on a keyboard, his back turned to us.

"No way in Hell am I carrying any of this shit to the buses." Garry moaned, examining a humming block of metal.

"Don't touch that," Virgil ordered, not even looking over his shoulder, "touch the wrong button, and you could blow up everything in a 15-foot radius."

Garry backed away from the block, "It doesn't have any buttons!"

He shrugged his shoulders, "It's still in a prototype stage. Anyways, don't worry about carrying any of this tech out. I can't bring my projects that weigh more than 30lbs with us this trip. I've been instructed to shut them all down before we leave . . ." He punched a few more keys, then the block shut down, the humming stopping. "There we go."

"What did you need us for?" I asked, "Isn't the communication equipment top priority?"

Virgil ducked under his table, pulling some cords away from an orange extension cord with a dock of outlets. "I'll handle the communication equipment, I need you two to grab some things from the HQ. I have a series of maps and documents on my desk that I require for Anderson. Blueprints, inventories of sophisticated equipment that could be sold to buy an entire military base with all the soldiers and gear still installed."

"Okay, so you want us to go to your desk and collect these papers. Why can't you?" Garry folded his arms, stilling looking around at the different machines.