by Bobby Akart
“Mac said you guys picked up some no-trespassing signs while at the builder’s supply store.”
Hunter nodded. “They also have a deterrent effect, although they might be less effective if the intruder’s intentions are hostile. A no-trespassing sign is not going to stop an assassin with a gun.”
“We need some kind of alarm system,” Tommy suggested.
“Great thinking, because that’s the next level of perimeter security—detection. We have to monitor a large area without the benefit of surveillance cameras. Continuous patrols will be the best way to accomplish this purpose. I also have several bushcraft techniques I’ve learned over the years such as trip wires that act as an early warning system. And then there’s your friend Flatus.”
The black Lab’s ears perked up, which was a good sign to Hunter. He was learning to associate the word as his name. One of the incidental benefits of choosing the name Flatus was that there weren’t many common words used in conversation that sounded like it. Therefore, he wouldn’t get confused in his new environment.
“Yup, that’s you, buddy,” said Tommy as he gave him a scruff around his new camouflage designer collar.
“Over time, he’ll become totally comfortable with us and will develop a protective instinct,” said Hunter. “With additional training, he’ll become an excellent perimeter alarm if an intruder approaches. Granted, there will be false alarms from time to time such as encroaching animals. But overall, a dog is an outstanding member of the security team.”
Hunter suggested they walk some more to take Flatus down by the lake for the first time. Labradors love to swim and he might enjoy cooling off. Plus, a bath wouldn’t hurt. He continued with the five principles of perimeter security as they walked up the hill.
“This is where things get real, Tommy. We may have to shoot at people. If your gonna raise your weapon against another human being, you’ve got to be physically and mentally ready to use it.”
“No, I get it,” added Tommy. “I’m here to protect my family, as I know you are. It’s a matter of time before law and order breaks down. Heck, in the cities, it already has. If I were a cop, I’d be home taking care of my own rather than being on the street, fighting a lost cause.”
“I think you’re right. 9-1-1 doesn’t work anymore. We have to act as our own law enforcement. Unfortunately, that means you can’t hesitate when the time comes. Your death could necessarily result in the death of the ones you love afterward.”
“Can we establish a perimeter patrol that includes two people at all times? We have five of us, and make no mistake, Barb won’t hesitate. She’s a heckuva shot, especially with a pistol. I don’t know about Janie.”
“Mac and I will work with Janie. But to answer your question, yes, I have a schedule that provides for a two-man team at night. During the day, most of us will be awake and at the ready. I’ve assigned sidearms to everyone and they need to be worn in their holster at all times. You never know when the time will come.”
Flatus stopped to relieve his bladder on a tree. He walked several feet forward and finished on a second tree. He was marking his territory.
“The deny aspect will involve those patrols,” Tommy surmised. “We don’t have a fence.”
“Yet,” added Hunter. “This will be a topic for another day, but did you notice that roll of barbed wire at the second house on the right down the hill? It was lying on the ground next to the shed.”
“No, I missed that.”
“At some point, we may feel comfortable in using that barbed wire to create some fencing around the house. As a group, we’ll need to have a conversation about the difference between looting and foraging. You know, establish some guidelines as to what’s acceptable and what isn’t.”
“Okay,” said Tommy with a puzzled look on his face. “The fencing and things like locking the doors will help us delay any attackers. Of course, as you mentioned, we may have to use our weapons to defend the castle.”
They entered the forest and the lake came into sight. Flatus immediately became excited and animated. He pulled on the leash and then barked, running back to Tommy to get his attention.
“I see, boy,” said Tommy. “Do you wanna go for a swim?”
Flatus barked again several times while he ferociously wagged his tail.
“Of course you can go swimming,” Hunter said with a laugh. He nodded to Tommy, who unlatched the leash from the dog’s collar.
Flatus immediately took off down the trail, but he didn’t head for the lake. At the sign marked Blue Lakes Trailhead, he unexpectedly turned right and began running through the trees, barking excitedly as he ran.
Chapter 12
Day Fifty-Three
Quandary Peak
Tommy was about to call out for the dog when Hunter grabbed him by the arm. He raised his right index finger to his lips, instructing Tommy to stay quiet. Then he whispered, “Slowly and quietly, Tommy. Weapons ready. I’ll lead and you watch our backs. Walk heel to toe. Got it?”
Tommy nodded as Hunter raised the M4 and methodically made his way to the trail. He could hear Flatus continue to bark up the mountain but farther off in the distance. He was at least two hundred yards away in the dense forest.
Hunter didn’t like it. He hadn’t taken the time to venture up the trail towards the peak and didn’t know what to expect. He vowed to fix that oversight after they determined what lay ahead.
Paying attention to his footing, he made his way up the well-worn trail, looking for signs of human tracks left by boots or walking sticks. Hunter continuously glanced over his shoulder to check Tommy’s progress. He had no concern for Tommy’s stamina and his ability to hike the trail. He knew the way better than Hunter did. However, walking the trail for pleasure or exercise was far different than stalking prey or being the hunted.
A breaking limb up and to the left side of the trail caused Hunter to pause. He quickly knelt on the ground to create a smaller target, holding his fist up to halt Tommy’s progress. Tommy was slower to react and stumbled into Hunter, but the seasoned soldier anticipated this and didn’t lose his balance.
Hunter would have to spend some time with each member of the group, learning basic principles of jungle warfare, cover fire, and bounding overwatch. This morning, he’d considered these things when he worked through their security plan in his head. Hunter thought there would be plenty of time for training. Evidently, he was wrong.
Suddenly, the barking stopped. Hunter listened to the forest for any familiar sounds. He’d tracked many men under a variety of conditions. Each habitat had its own sounds and smells. Over time, he’d learn the Rocky Mountains as well. During his past training, he never envisioned hunting an adversary on American soil in the middle of Colorado, yet here he was.
He reached back and tapped Tommy on the leg. The men rose in unison and began walking farther up the trail. They’d managed to move fifty yards up Quandary Peak when the sounds of feet tromping down the trail could be heard.
“Tommy,” said Hunter in a hushed voice, “something’s coming in a hurry. Continue to watch our backs. I’ve got this.”
“Okay.”
Hunter readied his weapon and looked through the sights up the trail. His line of sight was ten yards. Thirty feet was enough for him to react. He waited. The sounds grew louder. Two sets of feet?
Flatus burst into the clearing, running full speed towards him. Hunter kept his weapon trained on the opening in case the dog was being chased. Unable to stop his progress, Flatus skidded to a stop and slid on his side past Hunter and crashed into Tommy.
“Hey, buddy, what’s the deal? Did you find something?” asked Tommy, who brushed off the pine needles as he righted himself.
Flatus found his footing, and for the second time that day, he found his voice as he began to run in circles, barking repeatedly.
“Shhhh, Flatus. No.” Hunter attempted to calm the dog.
Tommy reached for his collar, but Flatus pulled away and raced back up the p
eak and out of sight. He barked the entire time.
“C’mon,” said Hunter. “I think he’s found something.”
Gripping his rifle at low ready, Hunter jogged up the hill, no longer trying to mask their approach. His gut told him any threat would have presented itself at this point. Flatus had acted at the foot of the trail as if he recognized the spot from before. It was the reaction Hunter had looked for when they’d walked down to the homes at the highway. There were no homes or buildings up here, so it must be something else.
The men rounded a curve in the trail that led them along the edge of a forty-foot cliff to the path that meandered along Monte Cristo Creek, the small connecting waterway between the Blue Lakes. When a clearing appeared in front of them, Flatus was found looking over the edge, barking and whimpering.
Hunter quickly scanned his surroundings. There weren’t many places to hide and Flatus showed no interest in the few boulders that provided cover. He quickly assessed the high ground farther up the trail. Again, there weren’t any obvious places to provide a shooter cover.
Tommy slipped past Hunter and grabbed Flatus by the collar. He hooked the leash and spoke to the excited dog in a soft voice in an attempt to calm him down. Between the sound of a friendly voice and the soothing strokes of his neck and back, Flatus relaxed before lying on the pine-needle-covered ground.
“Hunter, can you see what he’s looking at?”
Hunter set his rifle aside and carefully approached the edge of the cliff. The dirt and loose gravel beneath his feet made the footing precarious. Using the branches of a narrowleaf cottonwood to hold onto, Hunter looked over the ledge and found the source of excitement. It was a lone male hiker, probably the owner of Flatus. He was lying dead on top of a jagged granite outcropping that protruded out of the cliff.
He slowly retreated from the edge and sat down next to Tommy. He snuggled Flatus for the first time. “Buddy, I’m sorry about your daddy. I’m afraid he’s gone.”
“What?” asked Tommy. Flatus was sprawled out on the ground, resting his mush between his paws. He stared toward the edge, periodically raising his eyes to make contact with Hunter and Tommy.
“There’s a hiker down there about thirty feet. He must have lost his footing and slipped over the edge.”
“Maybe he’s okay,” said Tommy, wanting to be hopeful but knowing better.
“It’s too late. His body was battered all the way down. Tommy, it’s pretty gruesome. Some animals and birds have gotten to it already.”
Tommy hung his head and rubbed Flatus. The dog seemed to sense the bad news and no longer looked up at his new friends. A couple of tears streamed down Tommy’s face as he felt the emotional pain along with Flatus, who knew his old master was gone.
Hunter scooched closer to them and put his arm around Tommy’s back to console him. Both men comforted Flatus, who probably loved his old pal a lot.
Tommy broke the silence. “Flatus, we’ll give him a proper burial. As for you, my new friend, you’re part of our family now. I’ll love you, buddy, as one of my own. Promise.”
Flatus looked up at Tommy with his brown eyes and wagged his tail. Hunter added, “It’s gonna be all right, guys. We’re brothers now.”
After the excitement was over, Hunter realized he’d come in close contact with both Tommy and Flatus. If they had the plague, so did he.
Boom, just like that.
Chapter 13
Day Fifty-Three
Quandary Peak
Mac, Barbara, and Janie were gathered around the eight-foot-long pine dining table with their notes spread about and laptops open. The scene resembled any group of CEFOs and epidemiologists at the CDC, brainstorming a recent outbreak. The absence of the boys, which now included Hunter, gave them an opportunity to focus on the creation of their DIY biolab and possible alternatives to Mac’s BALO solution.
“While I appreciate this HughesNet satellite Internet system as our only option now that cell service is down, gathering data and information is slower than a worm with a hangover,” mumbled Janie as she impatiently tapped her fingers, waiting for pages to load.
“A worm with a hangover?” asked Barb.
“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s a Southern saying. Kinda like slower than a herd of turtles.”
“I’ve never heard of those before,” added Barb.
“Are you a Yankee?” asked Janie.
“No, I was born and raised in California.”
“Same thing,” noted Janie without lifting her eyes from the monitor.
Mac looked at her mother and smiled. Janie had a way about her that was most times serious when it came to work and oftentimes full of silliness on a personal level. It appeared her demeanor was having trouble with the transition period from one to the other.
“There is virtually no reporting on the successes or failures of the BALO vaccine,” said Mac. “In fact, websites, even major news sites, don’t have much in the way of current content.”
“People have stopped going to work,” Barb concluded. “The CDC website has crashed, probably because of the large volumes of traffic. People are home and trying to gather information via the Internet.”
Janie leaned back in her chair and tossed a pen onto the table. “Mac, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe the BALO vaccine worked. If it did, some news sources or even blogs would be singing its praises at the top of their lungs online. We’ve got to move forward on this other option.”
“Dear, let’s run through it one last time before we get Hunter started on building the lab downstairs,” said Barb.
“Guys, you realize this concept is a real stretch, much like my BALO suggestion, which turned out to be an epic fail,” started Mac. “You know I’m not giving up, but the deck is stacked against us. We have a DIY lab to work in. Janie brought us a dozen laboratory mice, which gives us a narrow margin of error. Even if it works, how do we get it in the hands of the people who can produce it? The CDC’s servers have crashed and I’m not sure they’d accept another proposal from me anyway. The government’s in hiding. I seriously doubt we can walk up to the front door of Cheyenne Mountain and say hey, Mr. President, you gotta minute?”
Janie laughed. “Yeah, I bet the President would bring you in, but we’d never see you again. Mac, some of the greatest medical discoveries of all time were by accident. Scientists were working on one theory and discovered a completely different use for a drug in the process. There are lots of examples.”
“Viagra,” said Barb.
Mac and Janie looked puzzled as Barb began to smile.
“Mom, seriously. This is not the time to talk about your love life with my father. Some things a grown daughter doesn’t need to know about.”
“I’m not joking. One prime example of Janie’s point is Viagra,” started Barb. “When the scientists at Pfizer created Viagra thirty years ago, they were attempting to treat high blood pressure and angina. The drug was intended to be a cutting-edge medication to fight coronary heart disease. They started the human trials and found the drug to be of little use for its intended purpose. But it provided the male patients an interesting side effect.”
“Interesting is not the word I would’ve used,” Janie said with a giggle.
“Mom’s got a point,” said Mac. “By all standards of measure, Viagra is one of the most successful medications in history. Its sales are in the billions of dollars. Men, oh gawd, like my father, found renewed intimacy with their mates. Mom, you’re right.”
“Trust me,” said Barb. “Pfizer sold a billion dollars’ worth of the blue pill because it works.”
“I don’t wanna know,” said Mac, holding her hands over her ears.
Janie stood and stretched. “Here’s another one. Consider Botox. It was first discovered forty years ago to treat crossed eyes in children. A common cause of strabismus in children is due to extra skin that covers the inner corners of the eyes. Basically, the child’s eyes are misaligned. Botox injections were designed to even out the tissue to alle
viate the misalignment.”
“I’ve heard of this,” added Barb. “During the clinical trials, they experimented with using Botox on patients who had uncontrollable muscle spasms in their face. The injected Botox tightened the face and resulted in fewer wrinkles in the patient’s skin.”
Mac began to laugh. “So let me get this straight. And don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the encouragement. But you guys have provided me examples which are quite illustrative. Let’s summarize, shall we?”
Janie made her way around the dining table to stand shoulder to shoulder with Barb in solidarity, as if the two of them were about to be judged, or a verdict on their fate rendered.
Mac began. “For years, some women who were cross-eyed sought a drug to correct the problem to make them more attractive and elevate their self-esteem. Meanwhile, older men found themselves unable to perform, perhaps because the cross-eyed women didn’t give them the urge, or whatever they call it.”
Barb and Janie began to snicker.
Mac continued. “Along comes the miracle drug Botox. It fixes the crossed eyes, removes the wrinkles, and we all look young and beautiful. So the women of the world stand in front of their men with hands on hips and say whatcha gonna do now, boys.
“The men crap themselves and start looking for help. A couple of scientists in England come up with Viagra. Problem solved. Women stay young and attractive forever, thanks to Botox. Men stay young and virulent with the help of the little blue pill. It’s a win-win for everybody.”
Barb put her arm around Janie and smiled. Using her best British impersonation, Barb said, “By George, I think she’s got it!”
The three women exchanged high fives and a laugh. Barb’s eyes suddenly grew wide open and she broke away from the lighthearted moment.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed, running for the front door.
Chapter 14
