by A. R. Shaw
The three tired smokejumpers walked past him and into the darkened room. Each of them gave him a half-smile and at least eye contact as they went. That was different from when he, Dane and the others had joined not so long ago. Perhaps it was because there were so few of them this time. Or maybe, he just wasn’t Tuck. Matthew wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He’d not had enough time to train before they threw into the role of captain.
He flipped off the tablet after sending out the brief of arrival to the department personnel. The recruits had landed though they were too few to replace those that were either missing, quit, died or incapable. Owen still wore a brace. He cooked and cleaned a lot until he was cleared for duty, but they were very understaffed if any major calls came in, he knew he was putting his crew in jeopardy.
“If only Dane were here,” he muttered and then immediately regretted it.
“Why don’t you call her,” Owen said behind him.
When Matthew turned, he laughed. Owen had an oven mitt on his good hand and within the mitt, he held a plastic stick with a head of bristles on one end. “What, are you doing with that?”
Owen looked at the brush. “Cleaning the dishes…what’s it look like?”
“Owen, that’s a toilet scrubber.”
He smiled. “I know that. Just playing with you man. I was cleaning the toilet.”
Matthew slapped one hand against the side of his face. “With the oven mitt on your hand?”
“I’m not touching the toilet. Have you seen that thing?”
“Oh God…that’s disgusting either way.”
“Seriously, don’t try to change the subject. Call the woman.”
“I can’t. She’s busy.”
“Tell her we need her. She’s emergency personnel anyway. How’s she even getting food right now? She’s not getting her ration cards. We’re still getting them.”
Matthew had thought of that. He avoided eye contact with Owen. “I’m sure she’s figuring that out. She’ll be back. We’ll save her shares. Whatever’s not perishable.”
“Okay,” Owen said but Matthew heard doubt in his voice.
“Do me a favor man, take that mitt and that brush out back and put them in the burn drum and then go sanitize yourself.” Deflection worked both ways.
Owen muttered things as he walked away. Matthew caught a glimpse of him holding his depleting toilet brush as he left. He shook his head again and laughed. And then stopped himself. He blew out a breath. It felt good to laugh. Even just a little. It eased the heartache a smidge and yet in his mind he said, Dane, where are you?
4
Dane
She’d made it past the second set of metal detectors and the armed guards at the entrance of the ferry and followed the crowds making their way up a narrow staircase to the second level. When she emerged through the doorway, there were rows of long gray bench seats facing one another on one side of the ferry with a different seating arrangement in front of a galley cafeteria in the center and another set of wide booths along the other side. The cafeteria was filled with people attempting to purchase their breakfast with digital ration cards and yet others climbed another set of narrow stairs to the level above.
Not that she had any valid ration cards on her, Dane wasn’t about to get in a food line snaking out of the cafeteria and down the hallway anyway. It seemed the same issues applied on sea as on land. There was either never enough food before the last of the line made it through or standing there like a robot made you a target. They each looked like drones inching ahead in their quest for a morsel. It was maddening. It wasn’t supposed to be this way in America. She wanted to scream at them. This wasn’t the fiber they were made of. Not in this country. Their ancestors had died in centuries prior so that they never stood in long droning food lines. But how easily they complied like obedient children, one person directly behind the other in one perfect stream. The dread flooded through her veins. She knew she’d do the same for a child, she’d never do this for only herself. Though Dane’s stomach grumbled in disagreement.
The last time she’d eaten was the day before around lunchtime, just a quick roadside gas station sub sandwich with a questionable expiration date. She’d given the clerk an expired food paper ration, one she’d found in the parking lot sodden with melting blue ink, while she gassed up the truck. The old lady had stared at her for a moment and then cut her eyes down but then after a heavy minute, went ahead and slid the wrapped cellophane sandwich to her end of the grungy counter. She’d ended up pulling off chunks of sodden greenish bread and tossing them out the window on the drive. She wasn’t a picky eater, but she was also practical. She’d rather keep down what she’d already consumed instead of the risk of contracting something that would make her lose it all at both ends in the end.
Food was an issue. You needed to reside in your listed residence to receive your ration cards and if you weren’t there then you had no way of purchasing food legally. She suspected it was the government’s new way of tracking your whereabouts. Sure, you could apply for travel status, they said, but then…that’s where they followed your every move. And right now, she didn’t want anyone, especially Bill to know she was coming for him. But as the aroma of what smelled like an egg McMuffin drifted over to her, she couldn’t help but think she needed to find a way to get her hands on something soon. Perhaps she could trade something? She couldn’t think of that right now though. Eating once a day was fine for her. She was running on too much adrenaline at the moment to care.
Like before, she heard the ferry honk and the sound startled her lightly but no one else seemed conditioned to the noise, so she figured they were on their way soon. The ferry floated out of the dock and she saw the evergreen shoreline deplete through the murky windows. There was nowhere to sit with the benches full of commuters and just as many people stood in the aisles. Dane noticed the line to the upper deck seemed less full of passengers, so she stepped in and followed them to the upper deck.
The wind whipped her hair and she smelled the sea for the first time in a long time. The Seattle skyline rose on one side as Bainbridge Island decreased on the other. Seagulls caught the wind and fought like bombers to get to the crazy humans that might just throw them a cheerio or a part of their bagel. Though most of the passengers just held onto a white cup in their hands for warmth from the blowing wind. Dane walked around the grayed roughened deck, from one end to the other, checking out the views on all sides though she was trying to blend in. That’s when she noticed the Coast Guard escorts on all sides. Their lights shining on the ferry as well as the surrounding area. Not one of them unarmed. Their presence was both comforting and yet also terrifying. They were taking this very seriously. She heard about that tragic day from news reports but had no idea what the present condition of Seattle. She was beginning to see it was more like a Police State than she’d ever encountered.
Dane wandered away from the railing as one of the Coast Guards eyed her as she eyed him. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Technically, Matthew’d agreed to keep her presence in Montana at the base or anywhere they might deploy to unless it became a risk to them. She’d intended to return to them…to Matthew, someday. After she did what needed doing but she couldn’t say when. Not just yet.
Instead of drawing attention to herself by hanging out on the edge of the vessel, Dane wandered around the center of the deck, looking out and trying to get the lay of the land and getting used to the new sounds. Breathing deeply, Dane wandered over to an open seat under an overhang. She needed to clear her mind and ready herself for what lay ahead. She’d researched her next moves on a public computer but admittedly, she was winging this thing, and it would take some time. She hadn’t even landed in Seattle yet and so far, things were not what she’d expected. Her plan could even take days and she wasn’t prepared for staying overnight though unless she was very lucky, she’d get in, do the deed, and get out before anyone ever discovered the evidence or that she was there in the first place. She
didn’t even care if Bill saw her or not. Just take him out and get it over with.
But as she sat there contemplating what came next, something she didn’t expect happened. The sky cleared of the overcast gray and the sun came out. That’s when she realized why they called Seattle the Emerald City. Because as glorious as the name, the greenery on the distant shore was as vibrant as a gleaming emerald gem itself. Shining and liquid and effervescing and magical. As if a veil was lifted the closer you came and suddenly, Seattle wasn’t what you’d thought it was of dreariness and wet pavements. Of mold and damp umbrellas. Instead, it was a clever surprise…or so she hoped. Suddenly, she noticed how other passengers smiled and the octave of their chatter increased. People posed for pictures leaning against the ship’s railing with the backdrop of Seattle behind them and then as Dane looked further into the bluing sky, she noticed the mountain in the distance. Not just any mountain. This was nothing like the grand Cascades or the mountain ranges in Montana. This thing was massive. “Mount Rainer.”
She’d driven over Snoqualmie pass on her way there and went through several checkpoints along the way, but it had been a typical downcast day and she never saw the mountain in the distance. Not to mention the fact that her attention remained focused on the next security checkpoints.
Some said the mountain was overdue to erupt soon…but they’d been saying that for decades. That would certainly shake things up for a society bent on killing itself from the inside out. Say goodbye to the Emerald City. A volcanic explosion from Mount Rainer would get the current destructive state of society’s attention…blacken the skies around the globe for a month or more. Far too many would die, but perhaps then they’d miss seeing the light of day and their focus would immediately shift to what really mattered in life. A tremendous price to pay for an attitude adjustment.
And then, the skyline of Seattle suddenly neared. The monoliths loomed like metal giants and the other passengers began making their way to the stairs again. They knew the robot routine apparently, so Dane took another deep breath of fresh air and began to follow the minions below. But just then a piercing alarm sounded and a voice, sounding as if God himself got a hold of a loudspeaker and said, “You there. Turn around.”
Of course, everyone turned around. But a sudden ear-piercing alarm nearly sent her to her knees. The Coast Guard vessel’s order was meant for the speed boat in the water zooming white s’s in their path. The ferry stopped its progression to dock and another Coast Guard ship zoomed out to meet the first. The speedboat didn’t give chase and stopped dead in the water next to the first Coast Guard ship where they were immediately boarded.
“Dumb ass,” a gruff voice nearby said.
Another answered, “The guy was just doing what we used to do.”
“Things have changed. They ought to know that. Now we’re all going to be late.”
Everyone just stood there stock-still. Dane guessed they were afraid to move. Another long minute went by and then one of the Coast Guard boats came back to them as the other, driving by a Coast Guard officer, followed the second vessel inland as an escort.
“That guy’s got some explaining to do,” the gruff passenger said.
Then they were moving again and soon they resumed the herding like cattle toward the exit and stood in a bunch while the ferry workers affixed the ramps and then the heads in front of her bobbed and weaved and descended the long row into the city. Doing this once or twice a week was interesting, fun even. But Dane couldn’t see herself as a commuter on this routine twice a day. She wasn’t that compliant. It would drive her nuts. Though it was interesting to see how some people lived different lives. How they adjusted to their surroundings and their hardships. It was just more than Dane would withstand. Give her the cold harsh winters of Montana any day. That…she could deal with. Robot hordes in the city…not so much.
She joined the mass and as they headed straight up the ramp. Being enclosed on all sides by other people made her feel more Closter phobic than she cared for. Even sardines had more personal space even though they moved as an amebic unit at a steady pace. Then, up ahead, she noticed an anomaly…how the crowd either veered to the left or how their heads bobbed higher and as she came to the spot where the glitch lied, she saw a body on the ground. “Umh?” She stopped and nearly fell over the person as the guy behind her grunted as he ran into her back.
“Just step over him,” he said in a frustrated tone.
She was left with no choice but to step over the figure in the way before the man behind her, and the rest behind him trampled her.
“But is he…”
“It doesn’t matter!” the man said, and the guy brushed past her and growled under his breath. He wore a suit and a tie, and she’d guessed he was late for work, and she and the body on the ground were holding him up. Dane looked back as she kept up pace with those in front of her looked and caught a glimpse beneath the legs of the others. No one stopped to check and see if the person was alive or dead. Was that the way commuters went in the end? When their time was up, did they just fall to the ground and perhaps the others just kept on their merry way and only at night did some secret sweep team come in and remove the downfallen much like city ordinance roadkill removal practices? Where some public worker sweeps the streets at night collecting carcasses and disposes of them in the landfills or some composting facility. Perhaps they send their families a letter of expiration?
More than likely, the body she’d just stepped over was a junkie, who’d had a little too much last night. She’d heard the heroin epidemic was alive and well in the emerald city. Or perhaps he was a part of the ever-swelling homeless epidemic that never seem to cease in Seattle, mostly due to inflated housing prices. By day, an employed five-figure student-loan-carrying college graduate and by night a public restroom, park bench or ferry path resident. There were conditions in life humans should refuse and yet they seek to adapt. Dane understood the adapting part.
I should go back? Dane struggled with the dilemma. No…helping him isn’t going to further my goals.
She’d been doing this a lot lately. Asking herself at each mental crossroad, does this further my mission? If the answer was no…she kept going. It kept the indecision and worry down. It gave her a path to remain on. Mental clarity in life was essential.
Once on actual pavement, Dane realized she needed to make her way to Alaskan Way and then find public transit to get her the rest of the way to the Medical Center. She’d done her research on Bill and how to get to him. He was too vain to keep his private agenda offline of course. That played to her advantage. He was a part of the University’s social structure. His family was prominent there. His mother was the legal secretary of a high-ranking government official in Olympia. Her son could do no wrong it seemed, and he’d done plenty wrong over the years. She knew all too well, the wrong he was capable of and how many times his mother had bailed him out.
What Paul or Matthew didn’t know and would never understand is what happened to her after the violation she endured at the hands of Bill Mathus. After she disappeared and before she finished her training, there was a lapse of time. No one really asked her about that lapse because, other than Paul, no one knew what else had taken place before her father’s death. And she’d never allowed Paul to ask about that time. She thought, he assumed she was recovering from the rape. And she was…to a degree. But the reality went much deeper than that.
There was something she needed to protect at all costs, before Bill ever found out. She had to rid the world of Bill Mathus, before it was too late. The issue came to her before Chicago in one of the many disastrous news headlines. There were a few shouts about it. A protest or two but then no one paid much attention to the passing of that bill because of all the other protests, attacks and insanity they’d become accustomed to. But Dane had paid attention. And she knew what was coming. They’d made the required DNA database, public.
It had started off small. Requiring all prisoners to submit their DNA to
a private database to solve crimes. Then the military and public works personnel were required to submit theirs as well in case they had to identify a body or some such nonsense. Then every employable citizen had to submit their before they received a paycheck. Then…school children before they entered the system. In case they ever went missing, they said. Then, babies, as soon as they were born.
And there it was. Some protested the slippery slope but, in the end, it was a landslide paved with Teflon. Dane thought it was all orchestrated from the beginning and yet no one put a stop to it. The government boasted about identifying hundreds of thousands of illegal aliens and deported them back to their home country and sure, they solved many unsolvable murders showcasing posters that read, ONLY CRIMINALS HIDE THEIR DNA.
But Dane wasn’t a criminal…well, not before killing Cal.
5
Matthew
It was a house fire. They didn’t usually do house fires, but it was in a congested neighborhood in a bad part of town. One local. Started by a local junky who had a penchant for pushing his girlfriend around. No one liked him, but he was no longer a problem for the local neighborhood because they’d found his body in the smoke-filled house where he’d dropped on the carpet right next to his latest girlfriend and a chihuahua. All dead. Where the guy got the actual vodka, Matthew didn’t know. The locals started brewing their own stuff and sold it off in exchange for food rations. The hooch, as they called it, was like lighter fluid. He’d never consume the stuff. That was crazy. But food lines were ridiculously long, and people got creative like bootleggers during the depression.
The problem was they were understaffed, and Owen refused to stay home.
