The Jared Chronicles | Book 2 | Tears of Chaos

by Tippins, Rick

  As the men walked, Barry and Dwight talked in hushed tones while Jared and John constantly searched for potential threats, choke points or outright hostile people. Before the men reached Alpine Road, Jared noticed a walking path, which led off to the west, marked Windy Hill.

  “Isn’t that the name of the trail we were on up in the hills before we dropped down to the neighborhoods?” Jared asked.

  John looked at the sign and nodded approvingly. Jared shrugged, and off they went up the Windy Hill trail. Both men were glad to be off a main road and walking on dirt again. Jared was sure there would be fewer people up here than down below near all the homes. The climb to the summit was difficult for Barry, Dwight and Jared with the added weight in their packs. Barry even brought up the idea of ditching the whiskey, but both Jared and John shut him down.

  “Jesus, Dwight, I can’t believe you don’t have a working car. Even I had a motorcycle,” Barry complained.

  “Wife always made it clear she would never leave our home no matter what came our way, so I never felt the need to invest the time and energy into setting one up.” Dwight huffed as he struggled up the path under the weight of his pack.

  “How are your feet?” John asked.

  “Fine, how is your poison oak?” Barry rifled back.

  John scratched his crotch. “Wanna see?” John responded with a sense of pride for his quick response.

  “Nope,” Barry said through labored breath, with no energy to engage in a battle of wits.

  “Wouldn’t matter anyway,” Jared chimed in. “A car would get us only partway before we would have to walk. Freeways are all choked with cars. The power went out during rush hour, so unless we had some off-road-type vehicle, I think horseback or foot is just as good.”

  The men walked in silence until they reached the top of the hill before turning south, leaving the trail and moving along the ridge another mile or two, where they picked up a hiking trail headed south. Another hour and they began seeing the same signs the three had seen on their way to Woodside. When the four men stopped for water, Barry checked his feet, and John lathered his genitals with the lotion Dwight had given him.

  When the sun began to near the Pacific Ocean, John and Jared scouted a camping site while Barry and Dwight hid out in a clump of vegetation. Jared and John soon found a suitable spot they felt was easily defendable and could not be readily seen from the hiking trail. Jared left John and went back to retrieve the other two men, showing them to their home for the night. By the time Jared returned with Dwight and Barry, John had already begun digging a flat area where three of the men could sleep while one was on watch.

  The men silently laid out three sleeping bags and set up a small gas stove, which they used to heat water and mix into freeze-dried meals. The men had gathered as many of these meals as they could carry from Dwight’s stores in his basement. Both Jared and John were relieved since the food they’d brought had begun to run a little low after leaving a portion for Claire and Stephani. John wouldn’t have been too concerned if they’d only been operating in the hills, but much of their travels would be in the built-up areas.

  He’d seen plenty of animals in the hills they could have shot, cooked and eaten, but most of the return trip would be through the built-up area. John knew they could live off rats like Devon was doing, but preferred not to if he could avoid it. He didn’t have a problem killing and eating deer or even a squirrel if it came down to it, but there was some lingering social stigma that curbed any semblance of enthusiasm he might have had when it came to dining on a rat.

  John knew that if push came to shove, and as long as the head, skin and that God-awful tail were nowhere in sight, he could eat a very well-cooked rat, but he wouldn’t like it. Now he was just thankful Dwight could assist him in avoiding any such calamity. He finished scratching out a level sleeping area and joined the rest of the men as they all huddled over the little stove, waiting a turn to heat their water and get to eating. They were all starving, and their bodies were screaming for sustenance after their daylong exertion.

  John was in spectacular physical shape, while Jared was slowly becoming more physically fit than he’d ever been in his life. Barry was still struggling, having only walked a great distance once in his life, which was now. Dwight was soft, and John worried about him. They needed him, so John reminded himself to watch Dwight and not allow him to deteriorate like Barry had on the way into Woodside.

  Before they left Woodside, John made sure Dwight had enough quality socks and was wearing a good pair of shoes. Funny thing about these Bay Area Silicon Valley men was they oftentimes wore the same footwear John and his mates had worn overseas. Hiking was a huge pastime in sunny California, and the same companies who pushed their wares on the special operations community sold millions of shoes to Californians.

  John and Jared had spoken early on about not pushing their pace so neither Barry nor Dwight would have issues such as blisters, heat exhaustion, or any other ailment a city dweller might experience when suddenly pushing his or her body far past what they had ever asked of it in the past. So far, both men seemed tired but were holding up better than John would have imagined. As John watched the men and evaluated their situation, he came to terms with the idea they might have to take a day off.

  His mindset didn’t lend itself well to the thought since, when he’d been tasked with something in his previous life, he and whoever was part of his team would push forward until the mission was complete. It was either that or they all died trying; nothing less was acceptable. Now things were different. He wasn’t working with young Captain America–type people, he was working with older intellectuals who were having to find purchase in a brand-new environment.

  Jared was different from the other two men in many ways though. Jared came from their world, but something had catapulted him far ahead of Dwight and Barry in his adaptation to the crumbling world. John assumed part of it had been the man’s exposure to Bart and his teachings, but that had only been about two months of the young man’s life. The training John received in Marine Corps Basic Training had been longer, and he was sure he had taken away less from it than Jared took from his time with Bart.

  Jared withdrew his cup from the stove, signaling John’s turn for hot water, thus breaking the soldier’s train of thought. John heated his water, poured it over something from his MRE pouch that distantly resembled lasagna, and closed the top, waiting for the meal to cook itself in the hot water. The other men began eating, no one speaking as they wolfed down the meals designed for high-caloric deliveries.

  When John could wait no longer, he opened his meal and began shoveling it into his mouth. The contents were much tastier than they appeared, and for that, he was thankful. Part of him wondered if the taste had anything to do with the starvation level he was currently experiencing, and then he wondered, if he were hungrier, would one of Devon’s rats actually taste good. Then his mind took him to a dark place and pondered how hungry he would have to be to eat an uncooked rat. This caused him to pause his shoveling frenzy as he shook the horrifying vision from his mind. Why did his mind automatically go to the worst-case scenario? He didn’t know. When he looked up, Jared was staring at him with a quizzical look on his face. It was strange how in their present predicament, each man paid attention to his friends and would inquire when they thought something was amiss. They were up in each other’s business, like women from those Real Housewives of wherever the fuck reality shows.

  John knew the reason and it was quite simple. One man’s physical or mental state could adversely affect the entire group. The term affect meant something different than it had meant a few months ago. In the past, if a friend was in a mental funk and flaked on plans, it would not have been troubling. Now if someone didn’t follow through on plans, the consequences could spell disaster or death. If someone fell asleep on watch or if Dwight decided he didn’t want to play house back at the ranch house and help out with their power situation, this spelled a significant change
in their quality of life.

  After dinner, John assigned himself the middle watch, Jared the last watch, and the remaining men the beginning watch. He didn’t fully trust Dwight to remain awake, only because he hadn’t spent any measurable time with him. He also knew Barry and Dwight were the most fatigued by their day’s journey and didn’t want either man by himself struggling to stay alert.

  “Okay, you two”—John pointed at Barry and Dwight—“you have the first watch, together. It’ll give you boys time to talk over what it is you all plan on doing about this power thing back at the house. Barry, you’ve seen the setup we have and can explain it to Dwight. Just keep the noise down. I don’t want someone hearing us and sneaking in here.”

  Both men agreed while Jared immediately set about straightening out his sleeping bag.

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” John said, looking at Jared. “You and I need to take a quick look around and make sure we’re the only lonely sons of bitches up here on this hill.”

  Jared nodded and grabbed his rifle. The sun had nearly disappeared below the Pacific Ocean, but there was still enough light to easily navigate the uneven terrain. Both men, with their bellies full and wishing they could just climb in the warm sleeping bags, trudged out of the little encampment and headed back up the hill. The only positive was, without the heavy pack, Jared felt like he could almost fly. He really liked feeling light. It made him wish he could just teleport himself to the NUMMI factory and then to Shannon and Essie, but he had to stay focused on the task at hand.

  Jared followed John, watching how the other man moved through the tall dead grass like a cat. He tried to emulate John’s movements and still remain aware of his surroundings as they crept forward through the dissipating light. The two men kept in close proximity to one another as night began to wrap its arms around the countryside. With no radios or other way of communicating except through hushed whispers, the men found it imperative to remain close.

  When the sun disappeared beneath the distant sea, leaving their eyes impotent in the growing darkness, John called a quick stop so they could don their night-vision goggles. John wore his while Jared kept his hanging from around his neck like he had done in the past. When Jared stole peeks through the goggle’s lenses, he wished his rifle was set up like John’s. The night was green and bright through the goggles. In contrast, it was dark and forbidding using his naked eye.

  They swept up and over the top of the hill, moving down in a westerly direction before turning south. They stopped for water, remaining absolutely quiet, trying to pick up on any sounds that might have indicated they weren’t the only two-legged creatures skulking about the hills. When they were fairly sure no one was tromping about the countryside, they moved on.

  The men patrolled about five hundred yards south before turning east and climbing slowly to the crest of the hill, where they crossed the hiking trail and descended east down the opposite side. What used to be a staggering array of city lights, complete with a trail of aviation lights from passenger jets heading into Oakland, San Jose and San Francisco airports, was now a black hole. John was unaffected by the blackness, but the sight nearly took Jared’s breath away. He hadn’t noticed it on their way to Woodside, but now he stopped and gaped at the nothingness. John stopped, then turned back to see why Jared had stopped.

  “What’s up?” John whispered.

  “It’s all gone, all of it,” Jared murmured softly. “What was once a beautiful view is now eerie.”

  John looked down into the blackness. “Well, at least you don’t have a power bill now,” he said, trying to add a little levity to Jared’s mood.

  Jared stared into the dark void for a second longer before hefting the rifle as an indication he was ready to keep moving. John turned and moved down the hillside, the swoosh of the grass against his pant legs the only sound in the cool night air. The two men slipped through the grass for perhaps another hundred yards before turning back to the north and heading back toward where they had bivouacked for the night.

  As Jared was about to step forward through the grass, he heard the distinct clank of metal on metal and froze. Slowly, John lowered himself to a knee, with Jared following his example. They waited in absolute silence for a full ten minutes and never heard another sound.

  Jared finally crawled to John’s side and pressed his face close to his ear. “You heard that, right?”

  John nodded his head slowly, still peering intently into the night through his goggles, his ears straining to pick up any hint that they were not alone. Both men had heard the same clank, and both men knew for a fact that, even if they didn’t hear another sound all night, they were still not the only people out here. Jared was reasonably sure the sound had come from behind them and down the hill. The two men whispered back and forth and came to the same conclusion about the direction the sound seemed to have emanated from.

  Both men agreed to return to their base camp and be on high alert until around 0400 hours. They would get up and move to the top of the hill, drop over the west side, and move for at least two miles before they stopped for anything to eat. The only good thing about hearing the clang was their sentry duty would be shorter tonight, Jared thought grimly. Then it occurred to him their sleep time would also be reduced. Two cons versus one pro was not the way he liked to live his life—before or after the event.

  John and Jared returned to their campsite with no further incidents other than walking straight into the camp before either Barry or Dwight realized they were back. Their lack of situational awareness did little to ease John’s or Jared’s nerves about their watch capabilities. Jared prayed that after they briefed Barry and Dwight on the clang they heard, they just might display a higher level of awareness. After John explained they were dangerously close to an unknown group of humans, Dwight’s face drained of color.

  Jared figured Dwight had lived his entire post-event life inside the safety of his little fortress and did not realize the gravity of their situation until now.

  “Listen,” Jared soothed. “We heard a sound like pots or pans banging together, which tells me someone like us is stationary and making dinner or brewing coffee or whatever. They’re not out creeping around,” he ended, looking to John to back him up on this theory.

  John bobbed his chin in agreement. “He’s probably right—making dinner like we were a couple of hours ago.”

  “Or,” Barry interjected, “there are so many in their group they don’t care about making noise, and they’re eating before they go out and hunt or scavenge or whatever.”

  This did nothing to curb the unease Jared saw in Dwight’s face.

  “Stop, we are going to get some sleep, stay alert, and leave at four in the morning, walk around whoever is out there, and be on our merry way,” Jared pleaded wearily with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “Why didn’t you guys go see who it was?” Dwight finally stammered.

  John bit his lip and reminded himself that Dwight did not have the same survival instincts he and Jared had. “’Cause walking into a stranger’s camp these days seems like a really good way to get yourself into a gunfight.”

  Jared wasn’t comfortable with Barry and Dwight standing watch and could no longer hold his tongue.

  “Let’s double up. John, you and Dwight stand the first watch, and Barry and I can cover the last half. We can move out of harm’s way in the morning, and if we’re in bad shape, maybe we take some time to rest.”

  John didn’t so much as blink before turning to Dwight and issuing several instructions on where to position himself and his fields of fire in case they had to engage any hostiles during their watch. Jared and Barry rapidly slid into their sleeping bags and fell asleep—Jared feeling a lot more comfortable knowing John was involved in the watch.

  Chapter 20

  At 0400 hours, Jared nudged John’s and Dwight’s feet, waking both men. They had all gotten about three hours of sleep, which was not enough in Dwight’s opinion. He kept his opinion to himself as
he and John secured their sleeping bags and hefted the heavy packs onto their still-tired shoulders. The men made sure they left nothing behind before trudging carefully up the hill toward the top. John led the group, the night-vision goggles pulled down over his eyes and his head deliberately but as frequently as a fan oscillating back and forth.

  They crossed the trail, then moved a hundred yards down the opposite side of the mountain. Once they descended one hundred yards, John turned the group south like Jared and he had done the previous night. Jared brought up the last position of the little party, watching their rear and scanning for any sign of danger. John kept a rough step count in his head as they traversed the slippery dry-grassed slope. Barry and Dwight fell several times as they moved forward. Each time a man fell, John would give Jared a look that told him John wished badly to not have to rely on the brains of these two guys.

  John and Jared were careful not to allow Barry and Dwight to see their exchanges for fear of offending the men, who were doing the best they could with their level of life experience. Jared knew both men would be hardened to hikes like this one over time, just as he had become. Walking home from work had not hardened him, but riding to San Jose and all the subsequent scavenging missions Bart had sent him on started the hardening process. Now he was tired and sore, but not in danger of breaking down like Barry and Dwight seemed to be. His feet had held up fine and, other than needing some Icy Hot and a massage, he was no worse for wear.

  As the sun revealed itself to the west, the falls became less frequent. They were past what John felt was the location where they had heard the sound the evening before, and when he announced this bit of information to the group, it helped ease the tension Barry and Dwight were grappling with. John pushed the men a little harder than Jared would have liked. No matter how much John pushed, he was thoughtful enough to constantly fuss about Barry and Dwight changing their socks and keeping moleskin on any area of their feet that looked even remotely red.