He abruptly turned and walked away. He didn’t want her to think he had been spying on her. As he retraced his steps, he noticed that she had forgotten to raise the privacy flag, which he promptly did for her before someone else walked in on her bath. Eric couldn’t believe that it happened. He instantly had a red face like a schoolboy, even though he was alone. She was simply one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, and now that he had, he knew there wasn’t anything about her he didn’t like.
One of the women told him that Angela had been a ballerina. She danced occasionally for a San Francisco dance company, but her aspirations were not to be a professional dancer. She just enjoyed the discipline of dance. That explained her magnificent sculptured body. She had been a bookkeeper by profession and managed her family’s large vineyard until the war took everything away. She narrowly escaped the slavers and happened to stumble into Charles and his group as they were heading for the canyon. It was a tremendous stroke of luck, and she would be forever indebted to them.
Eric would miss her when he left, and she was a compelling reason for him to return to this place. He vowed to himself that he would.
◆◆◆
As the soldiers prepared to leave, two of the women announced they were pregnant. Charles spoke to Eric and the rest of the group about the two soon-to-be fathers.
“We need men here and these two are not just run-of-the-mill soldiers, they’re Army Rangers. That’s the cream of the crop in terms of training in survival. We need them here and so will their children.”
Eric looked at the two soldiers.
“You boys have let your group down, but you’ve got a responsibility now.”
One started to speak to Eric but was stopped with a firm gesture and a wave of a palm held up.
“We came here to save ourselves from a terrible disease. These people gave us refuge and shared their food and homes with us. You two couldn’t control yourselves. In the previous world, you might’ve suffered severe punishment for your actions, but the world is different today.
We ‘re going to leave you here to help these people survive. We have to leave, and we aren’t certain when we’ll be back.”
He was looking at Angela and she smiled knowingly at him.
“We will come back once we can get a few things settled out there. We have our mission, and people are depending on us to gather information. Who knows how many people are out there hiding from the slavers? Who knows what has happened since the plague swept through? We don’t know if it’s over—if it’s safe out there—but we have to find out. I’ve lost everything; my friends, my colleagues, my family, my way of life. And I want answers. We’re leaving this place, but we’ll be back because this is a safe haven and I believe we can live in harmony with this group of people.”
Eric looked at the men who were packed and ready to leave.
“Okay troopers, let’s move out.”
He turned and headed for the tunnel that would take them out of the canyon. Suddenly, Angela ran to him and threw her arms around his waist and held him as tight as she could. Eric turned and kissed her fully on the lips and she returned his kiss, lingering there before breaking the wonderful moment. He pushed her away gently after a long minute, whispering in her ear.
“We have to go, but I promise you that I’ll be back.”
He turned and walked away. Her grip on his shirt pulled it out where he had it tucked inside his pants and then her hand pulled away leaving Angela crying softly as she watched them leave and disappear into the tunnel.
Chapter 11
A Reunion
Eric and his team traveled down the beach toward San Francisco and discovered smoke rising to the east of their position. They left five men behind to guard the equipment and headed in to investigate the source. It took them more than a day to get to a large barn that had burned to the ground. About fifteen-hundred feet from the barn was a house that also been burned to the ground. There were motorcycle tracks all around and spent brass lay everywhere.
Oddly enough, there wasn’t a living soul to be found, and there were no dead bodies either. Eric discussed the situation with Tim.
“Looks like there was some sort of ambush here. Whoever did this is long gone. Wish I could tell which direction they came from. Or better yet, which way did they go?”
Tim pointed east.
“Looks like they left in that direction. Let’s check it out.”
They went back to where they had left their equipment and the other men. They hid their gear and left one soldier to stand guard. The others walked the trail made by the motorcycles, heading east on an old, unpaved country road.
There were a few trees growing next to the road with yellow patches of grass scattered and struggling. The sky was blue, fluffy white clouds moved with an invisible wind. There was no breeze at all on the ground. There was no sign of life anywhere. Not so much as a butterfly to be seen or heard. They followed the trail for two more days and still found nothing. There were a few houses along the road, but all were abandoned, as if the occupants had left in a hurry. They decided to head back to the beach again because there was nothing out here. No food, no rivers from which to fish, no people, and no fresh water.
Once they arrived at the beach, they set up camp, and then went fishing in the surf, but everyone remained on alert. These were strange times and it was particularly weird that there were no people. The soldiers assumed the absence of people was probably due to the plague. It felt as if they were among the last people on earth.
Eric and his men were totally unaware that they were being tracked. In a world where hunger prevailed, most anything alive was considered food.
The soldiers were a potential meal to a pack of dogs that followed close behind but had remained hidden from the humans. At one time, they had been pets of people who lived in the surrounding area. After many months of no longer being fed by their masters they had reverted to that feral animal buried deep inside them. Today, in this place, they were sizing up their next meal.
They watched the man, keenly aware he could be dangerous, but hunger drove them to attempt the dangerous. There were twenty of them altogether. Most were female but there were a few males scattered throughout, mostly young males who didn’t pose a threat to the alpha male.
The dominant male was a Rottweiler-Doberman mixed breed. He was big, fearless, and at the moment, hungry. They all lay on the ground hidden by the brush, and observed the humans going around making camp for the night. They salivated with hunger, and their stomachs growled with a need to be fed. Long-dormant instincts had re-emerged and they looked for the weakest one to attack.
The soldiers would head south in the morning and continue to follow the beach. They were far enough inland from the beach road today, and the beach itself, to afford a welcome fire. Eric had scouts out in every direction. They were small in number and heavily armed and the last thing they needed was an ambush. They had seen enough signs of destruction and all were leery.
A piercing scream alerted them to danger. The sound of it was sheer terror. It scared them all to a man. It was quickly determined it was the sentry on the southern flank. Shots were fired. It spurred them all to grab a rifle and head toward that direction double-time. By the time the men got to the young soldier, he no longer was screaming, he had been mauled by many razor-sharp teeth and was near death. Huge pieces of his flesh had been torn away from his body exposing bone and tendons.
Coming on the scene, they caught a glimpse of a dog running away from the attack with something in its jaws. They watched as it vanished into the brush. In a few moments, in spite of their best efforts to stop the bleeding, the soldier died from multiple rips and tears all over his body. His right hand was missing, chewed off at the wrist. They knew it must’ve taken several dogs to overpower the soldier so quickly. One of the other sentries was visibly frightened. An arm was also missing. The blood pumped out of the man like an open faucet. They were powerless to save him.
&nb
sp; “You better keep a sharp eye open or this could happen to any of you,”
one of the senior corporals warned. He wasn’t happy about being selected to assume the watch. He switched the selector on his rifle to full auto. He immediately began to move his head around, his eyes piercing the distance.
They dragged the dead soldier toward the fire and wrapped him in a piece of plastic. They buried him the next morning, placing rocks over his body, hoping to prevent the dogs from digging him up and eating him. Each of them knew without saying it, the dogs would be back to feed once they were gone. They broke camp and headed toward the beach.
Hidden in the near bushes a pair of yellow eyes watched the burial. The dogs approached the grave as soon as the men were out of sight. Once the dogs came to the grave, they started pawing the rocks out of the way, and then they began to attack the earth in a furious digging.
The body was exposed; they began ripping large portions of the body away by rapidly shaking their heads until a chunk of meat tore loose. It was a welcome meal. Not nearly enough for the twenty dogs, but they all got a little bit. It would do until the next opportunity presented itself.
◆◆◆
One month later…
The sun dipped slowly below the horizon. Eric scanned the beaches and the distance; he saw no living thing. It was decided to move farther up the beach beyond the large rock-filled jetty that jutted out into the water. He had been searching this point for several days without success.
He returned to the camp where the soldiers were cooking fish and explained to them what he was planning to do,
“Look guys, I’m going to move south a couple more miles, perhaps even three or four, to see what I can find. You’re welcome to stay here, or we could move the campsite together. I’ve got this feeling, and I can’t place my finger on what it’s telling me, but I gotta go farther.”
The soldiers agreed they would also start moving south again together. It was a better idea. As a group they had a chance if something came up. Eric started down the beach while the soldiers packed up camp. After walking for about an hour, he was well past the jetty. He saw a low-lying cliff off to his left and decided to climb up for a better view. From here all he could see was more distant beach and the empty horizon. He was surprised when he spotted what appeared to be a submarine wedged against the surf several hundred yards from the beach in the far distance. From here there didn’t appear to be any activity aboard the craft, so he went back down to the beach with the other soldiers. They were setting up a new campsite and building a new fire when he approached them.
“You boys aren’t going to believe this, but there’s a sub out there in the water! I’m going to swim out to it and see what I can find.”
He stripped down to his underwear, walked back up the beach and jumped in the water. It was an easy swim to the vessel. Some of the soldiers watched him as he swam. He climbed the ladder and pulled himself up on the main hull. He looked around but saw nothing of importance. He climbed the conning tower to access the main hatch. When he got there, he saw it was open.
He went down the ladder to look around. It was abandoned and looked as if it had been plundered. There were items broken, damaged, and scattered as if whoever did this was in a hurry and left items where they fell. In the dimness surrounding the area where sunlight poured into the hatch, he found a flashlight hooked to a bulkhead. When he switched it on, he could see in detail that whoever had been there had taken almost everything of value.
There was a lacquered plaque on a bulkhead that read:
USS CALIFORNIA SSBN-70.
It was his brother’s submarine! My God!
He wondered what happened here, why the entire crew abandoned the craft, and why they left it undefended. The most important question in Eric’s mind—
“Where’s my brother?”
He continued his search and walked down a passageway that was lined with staterooms on both sides. Officers’ country. Somewhere in one of these cubicles is where his brother had lived. He entered each one and found pictures and personal items still left in place where the occupants left them. Some clothes hung in lockers and other personal items remained undisturbed. He eventually found himself at the armory and the very secure door was open. There was nothing left there except spare parts, tools, and other odd items; no weapons or ammo. He worked his way through the boat and saw that all the missiles were gone. Had the sub launched them all?
There was an assortment of pots and pans, cooking utensils, butcher knives and a larger variety of other cookware in the galley, but little else. The reefer doors were open, and it was empty. He worked his way back to the conning tower, to the main hatch, went up the ladder to the exit and was back on deck once again.
There was no one anywhere. He noted that there were plenty of medicine and wound dressings in the sick-bay. It occurred to him those items may come in handy at some time later. Eric climbed the ladder to the main deck, closed the hatch behind him, and swam back to shore.
◆◆◆
The next day, after breakfast, they broke their makeshift camp and proceeded south down the beach. After about another five miles they came to a small incline on the left where the cliffs naturally turned down and rolled into a natural sand covered extended beach. Farther along, the cliffs began again. When Eric got there it was an easy hike to the top and he could take a look in all directions from this prominence.
Walking down the beach he could see smoke billowing up into the blue sky. It was a black ribbon, almost a signal. He could make out many people, but the smoke from the fire was telling. There were people down there. He climbed back down and made his way back to his troopers to gather them around. They saw him coming and his approach made them aware something was up.
“There’s smoke down the beach a few miles. I want six men to follow the ridge and the rest of us will continue walking along the beach toward the fire to see what is happening down there. If those are bad guys don’t shoot unless you have to defend yourself. I want to talk to them. Everyone understand? These are the first living people we’ve seen since we left the canyon.”
Six men swung left and climbed the ridge and the rest headed toward the fire. They maintained an equal distance, and in an hour, they could see the people camped on the beach. They were all dressed in blue digital camouflage, the navy’s most recent uniform fiasco dubbed “aquaflague” by sailors for their ability to blend into the water should someone have the misfortune of wearing them having fallen overboard. There appeared to be about thirty of them in all. Eric pulled his binoculars out confirming they were sailors. One of them was recognizable, it was his brother, Chris!
As Eric was scanning the beach, shots were fired from the ridge above Chris and his men. Eric’s other group was engaging someone or something up above. Eric, and the man with him, moved toward the low-lying cliffs as did his brother and his sailors. The slavers who had attacked Eric’s men quickly hopped on their motorcycles and took off to the north. They realized they were no match for trained soldiers.
Once the coast was clear, a huge shouting went up as identification was made between Eric’s party and the sailors. Eric stepped out of the beach brush, cool and collected, and yelled toward Chris, it took several seconds to register with Chris that this was, in fact, his brother.
“Somebody call for a rescue party?”
Once the realization dawned, however, he slowly walked up to him, reached out, and grabbed him, embracing this Marine for a long moment. The two military groups joined each other and moved their camps together. They posted a watch up above on the cliffs to provide additional safety for the group. The bikers were long-gone, and since they were on motorcycles, pursuit wasn’t possible. Eric pulled his brother to the side and said earnestly,
“You have to tell me all about what has happened since the last time I saw you!”
“Let’s talk after we make camp for chow. We have a lot of catching up to do, little brother. But man! It’s so great to see y
ou!”
The two men were thrilled to see each other again. They had both believed the other to be dead.
Chris and Eric spent several hours talking as they sat near the fire. Discussions about the war, the plague, and things that had transpired in their lives since the last time they had seen each other at their mom’s funeral. Eric told Chris what he had seen coming down the coast; the hidden valley, the enclave of women, the dog attack and the numerous burned-out homes and businesses along the way. He described Portland, Oregon. It saddened Chris. They were both amazed at the lack of people left on the West Coast and wondered about the rest of the United States.
They decided to travel north in the morning to see if they could find out where the motorcycles were headed. Those thugs were an obvious threat to everyone they encountered. If the soldiers could capture a few of them they might reveal some useful intelligence. Mutually, they agreed, the two groups would travel in close proximity in case one was needed as backup for the other, and they would camp together every evening. It was a sound and workable plan. In the morning Eric took the highway while his brother Chris continued along the beach. Both groups had radios and would stay in touch.
The day was hot and cloudless. The California sun beat down on them like a heat lamp, making the traveling nearly unbearable. Several of the sailors complained about everything. The food, the conditions, the weather, the long marches, the packs they were carrying…everything, but they continued on in spite of it.
One man commented how much he missed his girlfriend, which quickly drew jeers from the others.
“She’s probably warming someone else’s bed by now, if she’s still alive.”
“Yeah, Jodi is seeing to her needs right about now.”
Avalon- The Construction Page 11
