by John O'Brien
“We’re almost finished with this current training group. We can look at expanding when they finish,” Lynn says.
“How many more will we have available?” Greg asks.
“We have a good group and we may be able to field another team out of the mix from those in the secondary training. Perhaps another one when those going through the primary training finish their secondary training,” she answers. I would have expected Bannerman to chime in by this point and look over. Instead, he is looking up at the ceiling with his head tilted to the side in contemplation.
“Any thoughts? What are you thinking?” I ask, directing the question to Bannerman. He startles and gives his head a diminutive shake as he comes out of whatever reverie he was in.
“Sorry, the idea of the sub and having fuel for years took me down a side track. You know, if we could bring a sub down into the Olympia port and hook it up, or any sub for that matter, into a power supply station, that could generate power for several years. There’s a lot of logistics that would need to be worked out but we could save wear and tear on the generators. Yes, we will have the solar and wind power but I was just thinking,” Bannerman answers.
We sit in silence contemplating Bannerman’s idea and the ramifications. Yes, it would save on the wear and tear for the wind turbine and generators but there is also the danger it poses if something goes wrong. If we didn’t have the sailors around to help monitor and maintain it, I know none of us would know anything about it. And if something did go wrong, we’d have to evacuate in a hurry. Plus, the rods will wear out after a time and, other than drive the sub out and sink it far offshore, we wouldn’t know what to do at that point in time. As good as the idea sounds, the idea of something going wrong doesn’t sit well with me. The silence continues as the gears churn in each of our heads.
“What about if something goes wrong or when the fuel rods need replaced?” I ask, interrupting the silence.
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” Bannerman says. “Never mind, I was just thinking. So, where were we?”
“Taking five teams up,” Greg says.
“Alright, which teams?” I say.
“Black, Blue, Red, Charlie, and Echo,” Lynn answers. “We can head up in the buses and pick up troop transports on base on the way up.”
“Okay. It will take us over an hour to get up there so we should leave around 0700,” I say.
“We’ll form up in that order when we arrive. Do we know exactly where we are going?” Lynn asks.
“I’m guessing it won’t be too hard to find. I know where the base is and we’ll just drive toward the inlet once we arrive,” I answer. “What else do we have?”
“The mines have been laid around the perimeter out to a distance of twenty meters and claymores positioned outside of the entrances,” Drescoll says. “We’ve marked the mines and everyone knows not to step within that distance of the walls. The entrance into the compound has been left free.”
“In addition to the skylights, the walls around the maintenance areas were finished around noon and the vehicles were moved in to the buildings. We also moved vehicles into the hangars at both McChord and Lewis. The hangars have windows around the upper levels and are fairly bright during the day so we should be good there. We have progress on the inner compound wall. If we use the wall crews from up north, we can complete that in a couple of days. We also won’t need the escorts as we’re working inside so we’ll only need an escort team for the trucks driving supplies back from the distribution center. We’re slowly getting the water tower up. That will take the most time but I think we have a way to link the wind turbine to the water pump. We’ll be testing that soon,” Bannerman says.
“What about the guard towers?” Greg asks.
“I think we have a design that will work with an overhang and using fire escape ladders. The night runners made it up the ones in Kuwait so we’ll have to increase the height off the ground and lengthen the ladders. I still don’t have a design for the base but am thinking something along the lines of a control tower. That means we’ll have to pour concrete,” Bannerman answers.
“What about tilting storage containers up on end and filling them with concrete for the base? I know we built temporary control towers that way,” I say.
“Hmmmm…. Yeah, that will work. We’ll need to get more storage containers which will mean another escort team,” Bannerman says.
“That will only leave us one on standby and that means we’ll have no one for the night shift,” Lynn says.
“Then we either do a distribution center run or a storage container run. How are we on supplies?” I ask.
“We’re okay for now,” Bannerman says.
“Then let’s go for the storage containers. I’d feel better shoring up our defenses here,” I say.
“I second that,” Drescoll says.
“We’re also shoring up the animal shelters and locking the storage containers at night,” Bannerman says.
“I’d like to add that we need to look at quarters for everyone soon. Bannerman mentioned this and I think it’s important before winter sets in with the shorter days. That will mean more time spent indoors. We’ve already seen some tempers flare. There was one argument this afternoon. Apparently one guy was caught with someone else’s supposed girlfriend. This will only get more frequent if we don’t do something soon,” Frank says. “People are getting more comfortable and feeling safe so they’ll start focusing on other things once their basic needs are being met.”
“Ugh! Okay, let’s get our inner compound complete and work on the design when we get a chance. I’m thinking it should be along the lines of apartments built off the ground with retractable stairs. Maybe built on top of storage containers high enough so that night runners can’t scale or leap to them. And all interconnected with retractable ramps to each other and this building. We should also think about building each with hoists so we can haul equipment, food, furniture, and the like up,” I say.
“When things simmer down here, Bannerman and I will look into getting with others with the right expertise and come up with a design,” Franks says.
“What about our continued search for survivors in the area?” Drescoll asks.
“As much as I hate to say this, we’re going to have to do that on an ‘as we find time’ basis. We also have the search for the families of the soldiers that we’ll have to take care of in short order,” I answer.
“If you taught others how to fly the helicopter, we could do both and not have to wait for you to be available. Or when we have teams available, we could conduct the search on the ground, or a combination of the two,” Drescoll says.
I feel a weight descend on me. There’s just too much to do. I thought the burden would vanish or at least dissipate when finished our little sanctuary but that’s just not the case. If anything, it seems to have grown. There is always more to do and not enough people or time to do it. And then there are the night runners prowling the streets at night just on the other side of the wall. The smallest mistake or the moment we are not one step ahead of them could quickly bring about our downfall. It’s this heaviness that is settling in. I wonder if the others feel it as well. I don’t know if we can keep up with this frantic pace. We’ll have to keep it up but on the other hand, we won’t be able to much longer. If we wear ourselves out, we’re going to start making mistakes or miss something.
“When we have the teams available, let’s send them out for searches without stretching ourselves thin. Coordinate with Frank for the locations and I’ll take others to teach them when I get back from the search for families. I’d like to take the AC-130 up tomorrow to clear more of the area. We’ll have to coordinate for clearing the rubble from the buildings we’ve taken down and cutting the trees back from around the compound,” I say.
“We have some available for that now if we don’t have to provide an escort. We can use the standby team as both parties will be relatively close,” Bannerman says.
�
��I think that’s secondary right now. The meeting tomorrow and setting up our inner defenses come first. We’ll start ground searches for additional survivors when time and resources permit. Tomorrow, I’ll start planning for the trip for the soldier’s families and head up in the Spooky at night. When we finish the inner defenses and have a plan for the quarters, we’ll start on those. We keep the other projects moving along as planned but I want us to start thinking about a Bio-fuel option,” I say.
“We’re saving the oil we use in the kitchen and I’ll start my research on that soon,” Bannerman replies.
“Okay, is there anything else?” I ask.
“You know, I was thinking of when we talked about the sub supplying power and the problems with that. Do all of the subs run on nuclear power?” Robert asks.
“I think so,” Frank answers.
“Well, are there other subs and do they replace those rods up at the sub base?” Robert asks. “What I mean is, won’t there be the same problems if those subs lose their fuel rods or if they refuel there. Won’t those go bad?”
Stunned silence takes the group. I had thought about the Hanford storage facility in Eastern Washington but I totally didn’t take the sub base into account. The rods, if they are there, will evaporate their cooling water source and contaminate the area. They could possibly taint the waters of the Puget Sound if the tides and currents are right. If the radiation leaks into the air, we are near enough for it to affect us and contaminate our own water supplies. That is something I’ll definitely have to ask Captain Leonard when we meet in the morning.
“Fuck… piss… shit… we’re going to have to ask Captain Leonard about that and a possible solution if it is a problem,” I say. The weight grows heavier.
We break up for the evening and head down to the nightly training session. Lynn briefs everyone on the day’s events. After the training, I trudge slowly up to the cramped space I share with Lynn. Plopping down on the cot, I hold my head in my hands trying to absorb everything we have to do. All the while knowing the night runners have emerged outside, as they will every night. It’s imperative that we clean them out of the area. Thoughts continue racing non-stop in my head as Lynn walks in and sits across from me.
“What’s wrong, Jack?” She asks.
“I don’t know. I sometimes feel that I can’t do this. It just feels like too much and it’s never-ending. We’re going to get tired at this pace, overlook something and then it’s all over. It’s going to catch up to us and trying to second-guess the night runners and their stupid ability to adapt is like trying to hold water in your hand. Seal something up and another place leaks,” I say, wearily.
“Jack, you don’t have to do it all yourself. You’re trying to do it all and taking too much of the load,” Lynn says.
“Good Lord, Lynn. I’m not doing anything. Everyone else is doing it. If we keep this pace and constant stress level, and we have to if we’re going to survive, the mental breakdown will come soon. We’re all going to have PTSD on top of everything else,” I say.
“Believe it or not, these people look up to you and us in the leadership group to make the right choices. We’ve come this far and we’ll make it. We just have to take it one day at a time. You’re loading it all on yourself. You don’t have to run around and be there all of the time. You’re going to wear yourself out,” Lynn says.
“I can’t ask others to go into danger I’m not willing to put myself into as well. I’ve always felt more comfortable being in front and leading from there. That’s just how I’m geared,” I reply.
“I know, Jack. You just need to pace yourself. And when your flying toys get taken away, you’ll be standing around wondering what the hell to do. That’s the moment I’m both looking forward to and not. I know you and what happens when you have too much time on your hands,” she says, smiling.
“Haha… very funny. Maybe I’ll learn to drive a sub,” I answer, looking back and smiling. She always knows how to pull me out of a funk, which is exactly where I was. I can feel a renewal of energy. She’s right, we’ll just make it one day at a time and do the best we can.
“Oh, yeah, that’s what needs to happen,” Lynn says rolling her eyes. “Please give us plenty of warning before that happens. I can see it now. ‘Lynn, would you please come give me a push. I seem to have beached a nuclear missile sub’.”
I chuckle and lie back on my cot. Lynn curls up next to me with her arms wrapped around me. Peace and contentment flood through my body. The weight I felt before feels a lot lighter now. Thoughts still course through my head but they’re eventually pushed to the side as I lie next to her.
* * * * * *
Sandra wakes. The hard, wooden floor beneath her is cold and unyielding. Her pack surrounds her providing warmth. The sense of others waking enters her mind. The vast room is filled with other packs but there is still plenty of room for many more. She stirs and sits, readying herself for the nightly hunt. Although she doesn’t notice it on a conscious level, the air is filled with the musky scent of unwashed bodies, the smell of her kind.
She rises and stretches, the kinks of sleeping on the hard floor working themselves out. Thinking of the young one inside, she ponders how the nightly hunt will go with so many. She knows she wants to take her pack up to the area around the two-legged one’s lair. The tug on her mind is strong and she wants to look it over. She doesn’t agree with Michael that they need to pull back. They should attack and eliminate any threat to the packs. However, she doesn’t want to let him know she disagrees as yet. The intrigue with the other one in the two-legged lair is another reason she wants to go there. She doesn’t know exactly what her feeling is, or why she has it, just that it exists. Feeling eyes on her, she turns to see Michael standing in the middle of the open area looking in her direction. The look he is giving her is one of perplexity yet with a searching aspect. She has the feeling he is analyzing her. She returns his gaze. Michael releases his stare after a moment turning to the other pack leaders gathering around him.
* * * * * *
Michael rises from resting in the middle of the wooden floor. The jostle of other waking in the lair garners only a little of his attention. Part of his mind is busy with how to conduct the nightly hunt with so many to feed. He knows there isn’t enough food in the local area for a pack of this size. They will have to spread out in order to not only feed for this night, but others. However, the greater part of his mind is on the female night runner, Sandra, who came in with her pack last night. He caught her tight-lipped expression indicating a disagreement with his notion that they need to pull back in order to save the pack from the two-legged ones. There’s also something else about her that he can’t quite figure out. He doesn’t trust her implicitly. She seems to have something in mind but he doesn’t know exactly what it is from her thoughts. She, like him, seems to have the ability to shield herself when she wants.
He continues to look in her direction as she rises from her position and stretches. The good of the pack rests on his shoulders. He wasn’t ready for the gathering as yet but here they are. The other pack leaders gather around him and he senses anxiety within each of them. After all, they came together in a moment of distress. His thoughts return to the night before; the streaks of light streaming down from the night sky. The images and sense of packs vanishing as those lights poured from seemingly nothing.
Every one of them felt the other packs’ demise and they are nervous about the coming night. They all heard the thunderous explosions and saw the large flashes of light throughout the night. Michael wonders if the same thing will occur tonight. Without knowing what it was, he plans to keep the pack away from that area. He will disperse them to the other areas for the hunt. He knows he needs to break them into smaller groups for the hunt and send them into the outlying areas.
Sandra arrives in the circle of other pack leaders. He senses the young one she is carrying within her. There are others who carry young ones as well. These will be the future pack members
and leaders so they must be fed and protected. He had given a lot of thought during the time he isolated himself as to how to hunt and capture food, especially with larger packs. He sends images to the pack leaders of how to corner food, come at the food from different angles, and how to drive food into waiting pack members. He outlines areas for each and then sends them on their way with one last image; beware of the thing from above. If they hear it in the sky near them, they are to take cover in the nearest building. For himself, he will go with a different pack each night.
* * * * * *
Sandra runs through the street. The sound of her pack close behind her echoes off the abandoned two-legged abodes on both sides of her. Most of the places they traveled this night have been burnt to the ground. In some, only the skeletal remains are seen while others have been razed to the ground. Trees, lining the street and cast in the shadows in the grayness of her sight, pass by as she and her pack search for prey. Michael assigned her pack an area to cover for food. Feeling a persistent tug to the north and the two-legged lair, she has gradually turned her pack in that direction.
She rounds a corner and leads her pack even closer. The houses and trees suddenly give way to rubble and destroyed buildings. She stops and gazes out over this sudden change in their surroundings. Glass and debris are scattered in the open areas in front of each building. Large chunks of the structures lie in the streets before her. She sees wisps of smoke rising from some places where the buildings once stood and an acrid odor permeates the area. She recognizes the scent as similar to that emitted after the two-legged ones fire their guns. Caution grips her as she continues to survey the scene. She feels the restlessness of her pack standing still both behind her and to the side. They all remember the image sent by Michael of the danger above and they all felt the loss of packs last night.
She turns her gaze upward half expecting to see the lights she was sent in the images. The night is silent. The droning she heard last night absent. A shriek from afar carries over the night air. One of the packs has found food. She hears a call from even farther away. A call from one of the larger four-legged ones that also hunt in the night. The stillness returns.
