by Richard Dusk
"Gee, I am really a backpack," she reached for the sleeping bag. "Hand it over. I want to wrap myself."
Garrett knew it's pointless but handed her the bag anyway. Maybe she had a plan that would work. She put one foot in the foot box and the other one in the hood, but the whole middle dangled in the air. Then she pulled it up to the head and almost fell off Garrett. His coat's collar saved her, but she nearly broke his throat.
"Jillian give me that. I'll strap it on your bag. There's no way it could warm you now. And we can make fire anytime if you get too cold," he coughed and loosened the collar to breathe again.
"Okay," she handed him the sleeping bag.
Once he took it, she lightly spurred Garrett and draw an imaginary sword.
"To battle, my faithful stallion. Through the day and night, we ride to the kingdom far, far away to right the wrongs committed on poor lieges. We kill the evil king and share the treasure across the land. Ouch," she yelped. The sharp pain in back reminded her that something's not all right.
"You will be home and lying in bed before rumors hit king's ears, limp thief," he hanged their backpacks on the chest. "Are you okay?" he looked back at her.
"Yes. Go wherever you want," she waved with hand, resting her hot forehead on his shoulder.
"Okay. Tell me when you feel cold."
"Yeah," she whispered, fighting the pain.
Garrett walked to a gap of missing slabs. Everything got covered with a thick layer of snow. The morning mist faded away, and the sun warmed their faces. The mountain they headed to was at hand, casting a shadow over the large part of the woods. Garrett smelled the burning remains of the garden but spotted another smoke columns rising to the sky. Black ones a mile away, coming from the forest and the riverbed. Curiosity forced him to wade faster through the snow.
The closer they got to the dried river, the stronger scent of oil he smelled. Standing on the edge, they faced an odd scene. Two crossed trains lay in the middle of the bed, overturned on their sides. The one with passenger and car carts rusted there for many months as its front half sank deep into the gravel. The second one, half-mile-long with oil tank cars that appeared last night, lay scattered all over the bed and among trees surrounding the river. Black marks of night's explosions encircled the burning pools of oil leaking from ruptured tanks.
"They had to be at full speed when appeared," he looked at the deep groove on the bottom showing the direction and speed the train had when appeared. "But how?"
"Maybe it came like a bullet," said Jillian, lying on his shoulder.
"A bullet?"
"You know, it just shot out from anywhere it came."
"Hmm," he scratched his chin. This idea didn't occur to Garrett before. He never thought about reappearances under dynamic conditions. "You mean that train just lay somewhere, and then it shot out from nowhere in an absolutely different place? Like it was sucked into something and accelerated till it came into another end?"
"Yeah, something like that," she confirmed his assumption, even though she didn't elaborate this thought to such extent.
"That's not a bad idea, Jillian," she heard to her surprise.
Garrett had to process a new viewpoint immediately. Every time he pondered about this inexplicable phenomenon, he imagined only static transfers of objects, but he never thought about speeding up during events. This changed all his prior conclusions - none of them remained intact. He examined trains from the distance, recognizing a sizeable black writing AXON-ITC on the snow-covered one. The contrast between black letters and light background triggered a déjà vu in his head, where he knew only a shard of it. He couldn't get rid of the impression that this is not the first time he sees this train.
"Why do I know you?" he murmured to himself with many other questions about the silver-colored engine and white passenger cars.
"Garrett, my feet are freezing," Jillian tapped his shoulder after good five minutes.
"Right, right," he sniffled and wiped his nose.
They looked last time at burning carts, and Garrett headed back to the road surrounded by trees. They walked silently for the next two miles, as Garrett kept analyzing Jillian's idea. Snow and area around wore signs of last night's incidents. Thousands of different objects lay scattered all around them and throughout the forest. It looked like a scrapyard ambushed by tornado tossing everything apart. All the straight lines engraved by flying rocks and wood chips into the soil directed to smoke rising from the forest not far away from the garden. Garrett ignored that and still thought about the train.
"I'm wondering what will be there," Jillian covered her mouth to cough.
Garrett knew; he heard it last night. He just didn't want to look at all those still trapped inside.
"Hopefully something useful," he hoped that rising smoke didn't attract any strangers hiding in the woods. He wished to have at least one bullet in any of the empty guns rather than the slow, heavy ax, which at least looked scary.
"What did you write in that jotter?" she aimed to restart the conversation.
"Just some thoughts to brighten the day. A therapy I prescribed to me to relax a bit."
"If you wanted to relax, you should have used that bullet a long ago."
"Yes, I should have, but after all, it will catch up with all of us."
"Anyway, where did you find it? It looked pretty cool."
"A gift from my father. He gave it to me at his last birthday party, which didn't go very well," he heaved a sigh. "It was his sixties, house full of people. Family, friends, and some people from the neighborhood who came to wish all the best. We had a good day. I was happy that I saw the joy in his eyes with everybody around. That jotter was the last thing that left me after him. He made it his beloved hobby, and he never let anyone help him. We could only sit on the porch swing and watch his deft fingers create those little notebooks.
The same evening when I got that jotter, we had an hours-long conversation about everything he taught me about the importance of family I had, future where I headed, or about satisfying and peaceful life. He pushed me that jotter in hand and gave that one meaningful look and said words I won't ever forget, 'Appreciate all you have, Garrett. Tomorrow will come, and it may not be the one you expect.' Then he just stood up and walked inside, leaving me sitting there. As he walked upstairs, I heard him fall. The doctor called hours later to confirm his death from a stroke."
"I'm sorry about that. Really. But he was kind of right about the different tomorrow."
"Uh-huh, but I wish he was wrong at least once in his life."
"That way you wouldn't meet me," she tried to cheer him up.
"How could I live that way?" he looked at her. "Who else could tease me the way you do?"
"You certainly wouldn't survive without me, because by the time we speak, you already passed the entrance."
Garrett stopped to check the way. She spotted it right on time. The forest road with razor wire fenced off access to the laboratory appeared among the trees, but the chain-link gate lay somewhere around or disappeared entirely. The way vanished under the layer of snow, and red signs with white writings hanged on the trees.
RESTRICTED MILITARY ZONE
ABBERVILLE - 6C-3
NO TRESPASSING BEYOND THIS POINT!
This area has been declared third-degree restricted military zone in accordance with directive 36/511 SEC 3 issued by Secretary of Defense, IDA protocol 103/52/19 and regulation IDA-22-3-51-6
WARNING!
This area is monitored by video surveillance. Any movement of non-authorized personnel is strictly prohibited. Deadly force is used to protect this area without prior notice.
They both read the sign. Jillian's gulp sounded near Garrett's ear right after she read the part about the deadly force usage.
"Don't tell me you're afraid. We've been through worse than an intimidating warning sign."
"Eh, kind of? Look," she pointed at strange snow mounds near a tree fifty feet away. "Is that a barrel sticking out?"
Garrett didn't notice it at first and walked to it.
"It's just a fallen branch," he said, but the closer they got, the more distinct the rough outlines became, and they stopped right at one of them.
Garrett lightly kicked it in a presumption of pilled up snow, but he hit something solid.
"See? It's not," said Jillian when Garrett kneeled down to clear the snow away.
"It looks like somebody's leg," he moved a bit closer where the head probably was.
He buried his hand in the snow and pulled up a man, holding him by the collar. Half of his face missed as if he shot it off with a shotgun. Garrett immediately released his grip, and the frozen body fell back into the snow.
"Who the hell could do this?" he stood up, looking at the other four snow mounds.
"Are you sure you still want to go there? 'Cause I'm not."
After the recent experience with Zack, she wanted to avoid going through the same again.
"There's nothing more we can do. We can try this or get back on the road and wander until we die somewhere. Anyway, we don't know who did it. We don't know who they are, where they came from, or what they did here. The only thing I know is that you are hurt and having a fever, and I'm weaker day after day. I won't be able to carry you forever. If that wound tears open and starts bleeding again, I'll have to cauterize it, and that will definitely cause a systemic infection, which would kill you within days. The wound doesn't look well already, so let's not make it worse. I don't want to see you shaking, hallucinating, and having panic attacks. We've got almost no food, absolutely no medicine and water only until snow doesn't melt. Look, there are no trails in the snow, and there won't be any soldiers outside willing to shoot us instantly. Also, that airplane certainly knocked out their cameras."
Garrett felt Jillian shivering on his back. He didn't know if it's of fear or cold, but he tried to name and eliminate every possible threat to calm her down and make her realize they have to go.
"We don't know if there's anybody alive. They might have abandoned this place months ago, but if anything happens, put your hands in the air, be quiet, and wait for any order. If they force us to leave, then we'll try to reach the plane at least," he slowly began walking down the forest road, sinking into the snow.
"How do you know it's a plane?"
"I guess. I heard the aircraft engine yesterday night. It broke off the plane and exploded, setting the garden on fire."
"I've seen some lights before that tree almost crushed me." Suddenly a quick thought flashed through her mind. "Garrett, if there is a plane, there may be some food. Am I right? We could rummage a little in there."
"Yes, we're going to check the lab primarily, and if it fails, then we'll go to the plane," he approved the plan.
Jillian laid her head on his shoulder and watched the razor wire loops. She seemed troubled by Garrett's answer. After all, why would they open if there's somebody inside? They are dirty and hungry, possibly dangerous strangers wandering around the military facility. Why would anyone open the door to let them in? They have nothing to offer. They are both just another burden asking for food and warmth. Her mind went silent, and her eyes watched the even ground change into steep, moss-grown rocky slopes, with tilted trees around the road. Fence spread by their sides, enlaced with black cable joining cameras.
"Garrett, they know about us."
"How do you know?"
"I saw that camera move second ago," she pointed to right above their heads.
They stared at it and waited for another movement that didn't come.
"They will play dead now," said Garrett after a minute and moved forward.
Every time he came here, they requested him to undergo a throughout body check, fingerprints validation, retinal scans, and random DNA confirmations. All these procedures made him uncertain about their willingness to let them in now. But now he refused to turn back until they try to reach the gate and get inside.
"The military didn't change much, did it? They've got still their orders and rules and care only about people who they are told to protect," said Jillian.
"This isn't military. It's a private corporation. If they have any evidence about me, they will let us in. I'm sure about it."
"And what if they won't?"
Garrett didn't know what to say. Many possible ways of how could all of this end popped in his head, but she couldn't ask him to guess the outcome right now.
"I will work something out. Don't worry."
They moved several hundred yards forward to a broad line of shredded trees lying on the ground and grooves in soil mixed with snow, cutting the dense forest in halves.
"Where is it?" Jillian searched for any trace of the plane.
Garrett hurried to the bright end of the forest that suddenly ended. He grabbed a tree in the nick of time at the edge of a steep slope above a deep ravine. The plane lay crashed down at the bottom and torn to pieces.
"Well, we've just lost our plan B," he leaned towards the edge to explore the open space below his feet.
He saw no possible way of how to climb down to it. At least not with Jillian on his back, and he certainly didn't plan to leave her alone to wait for him till he goes down and up again. "Let's return," he turned around and walked back to the forest road.
"Is there any place where we may go if this won't turn out well?" she said, biting the nail on her cold ring finger sticking out from the torn glove.
"There is a city forty miles north about the same size as Hanstown. Or we could get back to church and walk another twenty miles to the south to a smaller one. Here, check it if you want," he handed her map, and Jillian unfolded it.
Garrett said the same distances as she measured. Cities looked promising, but she had no clue which one is the right one. The larger one lay farther away with more opportunities to find food, but the smaller one required less time to reach. They could also return to Hanstown, but with all the debris blocking roads, they would spend hours trying to climb on the other side.
"I know you don't like going through forests, but we could take a shortcut. It would save us a mile. What do you think?" she said, receiving no answer. Garrett stood stock-still, his hands slowly rose up. "Garrett, what are you-" she began the sentence but went silent when she tore her eyes away from the map.
Two soldiers stood ahead of them, dressed in white camo and helmets, black bulletproof vests and masks, holding laser sight assault rifles. Even the goggles shielded their eyes behind reflective glass. One aimed at Garrett's thigh and the other one at his right shoulder, where Jillian slowly put her hands in the air.
"Who are you?" shouted a soldier at them. His voice commanded respect without a slight bit of sympathy for them.
"I'm Garrett Dawn," he walked to the soldier in short steps. He forced himself to sound natural, but the nervousness in his voice couldn't be concealed, "and this is Jillian... Jillian… Jillian, what's your name?" he whispered.
"I'm Jillian Raney," she answered hidden behind Garrett.
"Stay where you are!" he shouted imperatively. "What are you doing here? Where's the rest of you?"
"There's nobody else. It's just two of us. We've come here to meet doctor Hikls. I worked with him on the development of hypermagnetic fields and TRM magnetization anomalies three years ago together with the application of Ocrosir molecule," Garrett made one step forward.
"I've said stay where you are!" shouted soldier again and fired burst from his rifle a few inches in front of Garrett's feet that got sprayed with snow.
Garrett stopped, and the level of stress in his body immediately hit the peak.
"Take us to doctor Hikls. He knows me. We worked together."
The soldier turned at the other one when he mentioned Hikls's name, doubting the words.
"I'm going to report that," the other soldier turned around and muttered something in the microphone.
Garrett felt his heart skipped every second beat and heard Jillian's shallow breathing close to his ear.
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br /> "Why is she on your back?" the soldier continued with questions and walked around.
"She's injured. She fell from a bell tower," said Garrett.
The other soldier reported that as well. After a minute of standing in silence, a woman's voice sounded from the radio with three resolute words, "Bring them in."
The reporting soldier came closer, keeping an eye on them. The snow crunched under his feet, and the red dot pointed at Garrett's thigh. Even though Garrett was a head taller than him, the soldier scared him.
"Go," he ordered with an icy tone and let them walk first.
Garrett nodded and headed down the road further in the woods. He and Jillian had both questions swirling in their minds, but no one said a word. Jillian felt the suspicious eyes of soldiers on her nape and looked back.
"What are you looking at?" the soldier aimed at her, and Jillian instantly turned.
They silently marched to the entrance built at the bottom of the mountain, with no doubts that two army tanks could drive through side by side. As they got closer, Jillian noticed a large mark on the gate. Simple though elegant white logo resembling a diamond. The soldier walked to an intercom and typed code number.
"Proceed with voice recognition," requested an artificial voice.
"Service number thirty-five gamma seventy-seven," he said wearily.
The display flashed green, and he continued, "Gate four, open."
Wheels creaked and rotated to move the ponderous door sideways, making the gap wide enough for them to pass. They walked inside, and wheels immediately turned back to close it. Its shutting echoed to the distance, and they ended up in dead black empty space.
"Lights on."
A long, empty tunnel revealed with a black army jeep waiting for them. Soldiers took off their masks and looked Garrett up and down.
"Welcome to Nest."
Chapter 10 Hope Elevated
The whirring noise of the jeep overlapped with periodical whooshes reflecting on steel-concrete walls of the semi-circular tunnel. They drove many minutes deep into the mountain and already passed through the third blast door. Whenever one of those doors shut behind them, the next one lighted up on the far side of the tunnel, and from this distance, it didn't look bigger than a fingernail. The sharp light of lamps hanging over them missed where construction didn't withstand quakes and tumbled down with jet fans blocking half of the way. Pipelines ripped off the wall let the fading stream of water make wet marks on the cracked concrete.
