"Woah…" Upton says under his breath.
I-695 West
Capitol Hill
Washington, D.C.
Three Hours Later
I slowly roll to a stop just before the next off ramp. Ahead of us on the highway is total carnage. Everyone exits their vehicles and walks as far as they can onto the bridge.
Collapsed buildings, floodwater, even wrecked boats litter the area completely blocking the route we were going to take. An area further past appears to have tall concrete walls with biohazard symbols on them.
"Is this from that big storm we had a few years back?" Faye asks nobody in particular. I barely hide a shudder from the others from the memory. Jay and I were in Flatiron when it hit. Trapped outside, we eventually made our way to Madison's Last Stand. That blizzard made Sandy look like a summer breeze.
"Whatever it was," Dima sums up. "We can go no further this way."
"This exit'll take us to Independence Avenue." I suggest. "I hear it's in the running for an originality award."
Faye nods, not taking her eye off the destroyed roadway.
At the end of the ramp, we find a gate built by the National Guard that was later driven through by some desperate escapees. Whether or not they were successful is unknown, as the car is riddled with bullet holes, but there are no bodies. Further past is what appears to be a JTF checkpoint guarded by several people in very worn out uniforms. In the back, Finnigan sees this and waves to the men, only to have them aim at him.
"Hold it!" He shouts. "JTF!"
Two of the men exchange glances, then open fire on us as The D4's 'Come On!' starts to blare through the speakers.
"Holy shit!" Miller yells in surprise, pulling his friend back into the bed.
Ducking as low as I can, I slam the gas, turning sharply onto Independence. Faye follows close behind as rounds fly all around. One narrowly misses Jay and hits the windshield, making a spider web of cracks. As fewer and fewer shots come at us, I begin to slow down, weaving between abandoned cars in the road.
"What. The hell. Was THAT?!" Kelly shouts.
"Good question!" Miller replies from the back. "We're okay back here, if anyone's wondering."
Turning onto 17th and approaching Constitution, a battered White House come into view, as well as a group of people wearing white tank tops and riot helmets.
"Now whose this?" Jay asks.
The group stops as we approach. One takes out a police baton and stares directly at me.
"Those don't look like cops." Kelly observes. Not taking any chances, I gun the engine again, aiming directly for the baton lady. She swings it tauntingly as her comrades raise their weapons. Before they can open fire, the hood and bumper connect, creating a shallow dent under the girl. The glass eyepieces of her mask shatter and her helmet flies off, revealing some quite matted blonde hair. By now, Miller and Finnigan have their weapons ready and open fire on the rest of the group. Grabbing at the slippery metal hood, Baton Girl slowly slides down until she finally falls. My tires come next, effectively turning her into a speed bump.
"Jesus!" Jay yells in surprise.
"I hope she has insurance!" I shout my reply.
We continue at full speed until another gate comes into view. The few people there rise at the sound of two sets of screeching tires. They look at us with a mix of surprise and confusion as one of them slowly approaches with her weapon ready. After a moment, I notice the BDU pants and a green t-shirt with 'JTF' stenciled on the front.
"Finally." I whisper with relief. "Friendlies."
"Drivers!" The JTF officer orders. "Turn off your engines! All passengers, hands where we can see them!" Then she looks to me. "You! Driver! Step out slowly with your hands above your head!"
A silence falls over the street that I've never heard before. All that can be heard is the crinkle from our tired car engines, and the groan of my door slowly opening. No birds, no breeze gliding through the trees, nothing. I stand, hands raised, until one of the other officers off to the side notices something.
"What's that on your shoulder?" He calls. "Division patch? You Division?"
I nod slowly, hands still up.
The lead officer lets her rifle hang down and waves to her compatriots. She walks up to me and I start to lower my hands, only to have her grab one and shake it tightly.
"You're a damn sight for sore eyes, Agent." She says with an exhausted tone.