by Kyle Pratt
He frowned, nodded and released her.
Caden looked out the window. A week of gentle snowfall had transformed the area into a carpet of white. The branches of evergreen trees sagged with snow. A gentle snowfall. No, gentle isn’t the word. Many people are still living in cars and tents. Images of the FEMA camps covered in snow flashed through his mind. This will only add to the misery of the destitute.
He shuddered, tossed another log on the fire, and decided to put on a heavier shirt.
As he put on a flannel shirt from the closet, he heard the long heavy stride of his father come up the stairs and down the hall, then he heard Sue waddle along the hallway and down the creaking stairs.
A grumble from his stomach turned his mind to breakfast. He had thought about the food situation many times and never found an answer. If everyone in the community shared all they had we would all starve before the next harvest. If we share a little we delay the inevitable. Many of the old and infirm are already dead. Those that don’t have family, can’t work or don’t have useful skills will probably not survive the winter.
He left his room and headed downstairs feeling guilty for not starving.
Caden followed the aroma into the dining area. Maria sat at a corner of the table with Adam on her lap. The rest of the family, except his father, were either seated or moving plates and bowls to the table. No one ate. Caden sat next to Maria. “Where’s Dad?”
“He said he had to get something from the attic.”
“Now?” Caden hoped he wouldn’t be long.
One after another, everyone sat down. As a child, Caden had always thought of the dining table as huge, but this morning with five adults and a baby around it, and soon his father, it was full.
He glanced at Susan, wondered if she was lonely despite the full house, and pondered the fate of his brother in Seattle. This year started with such promise. Peter was going…no is going to be a father. I had a new position with an up and coming Senator in the capital of the most powerful country on the planet. Such things are so easily stripped away. He sighed out loud.
Maria squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry about Hansen and war today.”
“Okay,” he said as the sound of footsteps and thuds came from the stairwell.
His father entered the room carrying something vaguely familiar. Standing beside Maria he unfolded the wooden contraption.
Caden leaned back for a clearer view. “That old highchair was in the attic?”
His dad nodded. “There are a lot of interesting things up there. We’ve been bringing down the useful or tradable items.”
Lisa looked at it askew. “I think I sat in that thing.”
“You did and Peter and Caden.” His mom grinned.
Trevor sat at the end of the table beside the highchair and smiled as Adam slapped the tray. Then he reached out and all the adults held hands around the table.
“Lord, bless this food and those around this table. We pray for Peter’s safety…”
“Amen,” Sue whispered.
“…and that our family and this community will be safe. We pray that there will be enough to eat in the coming months. And Lord, you told us to pray for our leaders and we do pray for them, but we also pray that you will save us from their foolishness. Amen.”
That morning the family ate well from the bounty of their land.
After breakfast his dad said, “Dress warm and meet me in the barn. I’m working on a project and it’ll go faster with two of us.”
Caden had hoped to spend time with Maria. He shot her an apologetic glance and went to find his coat and gloves.
While pulling on his jacket, the hum of his phone vibrating on the nightstand distracted him. With one arm in the sleeve he looked at the display. Dr. Scott? He reached out his hand, paused and then answered the call.
“Good morning, Caden. How are you?”
“Great. I still have some bruises and a tender spot on the head, but no headaches. Is that why you called?”
“Well, no. I’m calling about Cruz.”
Caden’s gut tightened.
“There’s no longer a medical reason to keep him in the hospital and, we need the room.”
He knew this was coming, but didn’t want to deal with it today, so he put the doctor off by saying, “I’ll talk with the Sheriff about moving him to the jail. Or just shooting him.
Caden tried to put Cruz out of his mind as he walked downstairs. Sue sat by the fireplace reading a book on babies and childbirth. He paused, stoked the fire and added a log. His mom, Maria and Lisa talked and laughed in the kitchen. He was tempted to join them, if just for a moment, but he knew his father was waiting. Reluctantly he left and walked to the barn.
Along one wall was a stack of firewood. He paced off over twenty feet and nodded approvingly. About three cord.
As a child he had asked his father if he could help split the firewood. Caden couldn’t remember exactly how old he was when his dad, after careful instruction, handed him the ax. Hours and blisters later they had a good supply of wood. His father ‘volunteered’ both him and Peter for firewood duty many times after that, but Caden never again asked for the opportunity.
Still, as he gazed at the large stack, the memory of blisters faded and a measure of reassurance filled him. Food and wood would get them through this winter.
Seeing his father step from the tack room, Caden said, “You’ve got a good stack of wood here.”
“I think we have enough for the rest of this winter.” His dad smiled at Caden. “Maria helped with a lot of that”
“Maria helped you cut and split three cords of wood?”
“She’s not that good at splitting, but she’s fine with a chainsaw.”
Caden laughed.
“Follow me,” his dad said. “I’ve got something to show you.”
In a stall at the end of the barn was a pile of lumber and something covered by a blue tarp.
Pulling the tarp back, his dad revealed a pile of clear, plastic-like, material.
Caden knelt and inspected the sturdy, double layered, transparent sheets. “This stuff looks like plastic, but what is it?”
“The guy I got it from called it twin-wall polycarbonate.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Remember the old greenhouse beside the garden?”
“That old thing? It’s falling down.”
Trevor grabbed a 2 by 4. “We’re going to fix it up.”
“Half the panes are…oh.” He smiled looking at the polycarbonate sheets. “We’re going to be out here for a while.”
“Yeah.” His dad handed him a tool belt. “Let’s get started.”
As they set the first new piece in place, Caden asked, “How did you get the materials?”
“We had a lot of wood up in the loft. The plastic stuff, well, that was expensive.”
“How much?”
“The only thing he was willing to trade for was booze or coffee.”
“We don’t have much in the way of liquor.”
“Now we don’t have much in the way of coffee.”
“You traded away the coffee?”
Trevor nodded.
Caden looked over the dilapidated building and wished he had a cup warming his fingers right then. He imagined drinking it and feeling it warm him from inside. He could almost smell the aroma. “This greenhouse better be worth it.”
An hour later the two men had replaced a dozen 2x4s and nearly as many panes. This is fixing up nice. We’ll be starting tomatoes, squash and cucumbers in it soon.
As he rested while his father cut another board, Caden counted the needed panels. “I think we could build two with what you have back in the barn.”
“I could.”
Caden was confused. “Why trade away the coffee for more than we need?”
His father grinned widely. “Any leftover is going to the church. They’re building a community garden in the field behind the sanctuary.”
“I’ve tal
ked about finding and building greenhouses. I’m glad it is getting done.”
His dad seemed less enthused. “It’s a good idea, but learning the gardening or farming skills necessary to feed a family can take years.”
Caden looked around. “I remember this place filled with plants.”
“Your mom and I grew up on farms and even so, there were years the crops failed.”
Caden didn’t want to imagine a crop failure this year. He picked up his pace. This building was going to give the Westmore clan the early start they needed for their garden.
Several hours later, Nikki barked repeatedly as a pickup rumbled down Hops Road.
Caden recognized the red Ford of his XO and, figuring he was coming to see Lisa, continued to nail a support beam into place.
A couple minutes later Brooks came around the barn, in uniform, carrying a black briefcase. Caden groaned. This is no social call.
Brooks greeted Trevor and then saluted Caden. “We need to talk—privately.”
Chapter Eighteen
Caden invited the XO into the tack room of the barn. A rusty woodstove stood in the corner. A dented blue enamel coffee pot sat on top. Caden picked it up hoping some coffee remained, but found only the dark residue of past brews.
When he was a teen the room held saddles, bridles, tack and grooming equipment. Now it was his father’s man cave. Peg board lined the walls with tools neatly hung. A work bench ran along one side with drawers and toolboxes underneath. “What’s up?” Caden asked.
Brooks set the briefcase on the bench and turned the dial on the combination. “A courier delivered an operations order and op plan this morning. I reviewed both and it was clear you needed to see it immediately.” He handed him a folder, stamped SECRET in bold red letters.
Caden flipped open the file. “Give me the brief.”
“It orders us to provide support for Operation Lexington against gangs and terrorists in the Renton, Burien, SeaTac, Kent, and Des Moines areas.”
Caden laid the map out on the bench. The red blast area and yellow contaminated zone were clearly marked on it.
Brooks tapped his finger on a small rectangular area. “We’ll be here, just outside of Renton, in Hillcrest.
The area was marked “Golf 181.”
“We’re directed to set up a Combat Support Hospital and logistic center at an abandoned office building.” He pointed to another spot on the map. “The op plan says the goals are to restore law and order and to secure access to and operation of SeaTac airport on the southern edge of the yellow zone…”
Still staring at the message Caden said, “All of this is way out of our area of operations.”
“…and control of regional port facilities.”
“Uh huh,” Caden said still focused on the message.
With concern in his voice Brooks said, “The port is still under the control of the People’s Liberation Army.”
Caden pursed his lips “Our part in this is minor.” He remembered General Harwich saying the Chinese were using the flow of refugees, gangs and other criminals to expand their sphere of influence. “I see several Guard units, State Patrol and local law enforcement, but I don’t see regular army units in or near our op area.”
Caden rubbed his chin. “This message is vague about the Port of Tacoma portion of the op, but look at the units devoted to it.” He moved his finger in an arc around the port. A dozen regular army units were deployed in that area.
“I saw that.” Brooks brow furrowed.
“Pushing back against the Chinese zone of control was bound to happen when the new congress refused to ratify the friendship treaty.”
Brooks’ brow puckered deeper. “The PLA isn’t going to just pack up and go home.”
“There’s no mention of taking the port from the Chinese Army. The operation may be against the gangs, and a show of force to prevent PLA expansion in this area.” Caden leaned over the bench. “The only large operating airfield at the moment is Joint Base Lewis-McChord. Command would want to control the airports, but they don’t mention the nearby King County Airport.”
“It’s just inside the red zone and….” Brooks tapped the spot on the map and slowly shook his head.
“What? Did something happen there?”
Thousands of people went to that airfield just after the blast. Since it was nearby and used by the aircraft factory and private pilots, it was as busy as SeaTac.”
“That seems reasonable, go to the airfield until the fires burn out.”
Brooks sighed. “The fires surrounded the field and burned for days.”
“No one got out?”
He shook his head. “Heat, thirst, radiation. I never heard of anyone getting out alive.”
“The bodies are still there?”
Brooks nodded. “It’s in the red zone
The two men stared at the map. Caden finally broke the awkward silence. “This might be a plan to out maneuver the Chinese by seizing control of SeaTac before they do and confine the PLA to the port.”
Brooks smiled weakly. “I’m sure a second airport would help with relief supplies, but….”
Caden shook his head. “There are two elements to this operation, and neither is about relief supplies. Even the name, Operation Lexington, hints at something larger. Of course command wants to restore order and they want to resume operations at SeaTac, but as soon as that is done, I think Monroe plans to push the Chinese out of the state.”
Brooks rested his palm on the papers. “Why don’t they say that in the message?”
“Maybe some units have been told, or will be, but we’re just a rear support unit. There’s no need to tell us much.”
“They want us in place by 0500 Monday.”
“I guess I’ll be heading north in less than forty-eight hours.”
“I should command this deployment. You should stay here in overall command of the armory and our area.”
Caden placed his finger on the map. “For a normal support operation I would agree, but this could go badly and I’ve done urban combat maneuvers…”
“How do I get experience if I don’t…?”
“…and our area includes the neighborhood where my brother lived. I want to check it out. If we were being sent to the area where your family lived, I’d find a way to include you.”
Brooks shook his head. “The only family I had were my parents and they were in the Seattle red zone.”
“I can get to my brother’s house. I’d like to think he’s been there, left a message, and maybe been sent somewhere else.” He shrugged. “It’s a small hope, but I need to follow up on it.”
Brooks nodded. “I understand.”
“I’ll tell the sheriff that we are pulling most of our men up north for a few days. He won’t be pleased.”
“Maria really won’t be pleased,” Brooks said with a grimace.
Caden cringed. “I’m glad this is classified. The less she knows the better.”
Brooks cast him a doubtful look.
“The Army is clearing out gangs and we are the backup. That’s the brief, and that little should amount to an unclassified overview of our part of the op. Anyway, that’s going to be my position with Maria—and the sheriff. Back me up on it, okay?”
“It is what the message says.”
It is, but…. Caden shuddered inwardly at the thought of engaging units of the PLA, the world’s largest army. “I should probably go tell Maria and the sheriff what I can.”
“Before you go there’s one more thing.”
“About the op plan?”
“No. That kid you’ve been trying to help….”
Caden tensed. “Zach? What about him?”
“He told the First Sergeant that his mom is in the hospital and he needs a few days off.”
“What happened to her?”
“The kid didn’t say. I called the hospital, but they won’t say anything either.”
“That young man has more than his share of bad luck.” Caden s
ighed deeply and looked out the window. “Give him whatever time he needs.”
Brooks nodded. “I did.” He returned the papers to the briefcase.
Stepping to the door of the tack room, Caden called for his father to take a break. “I have news to share with the family.”
The three men walked toward the house in silence, but Brooks picked up his pace when Lisa stepped out on the porch.
Still deep in thought, Caden hardly glanced at his sister as he walked inside. He was just finishing his explanation when Brooks came in. Lisa was right behind him with a somber look on her face.
Maria, sitting next to him on the couch, asked the first question. “When will you be back?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I think it will be days, not weeks.”
Maria took his hand. “Where are you going?”
“North, but I’m not supposed to say exactly.”
“The red zone?” his mother asked.
“No not there, but….”
“If you’re going to be close to our house, could you see if Peter has been there,” Sue whispered. “See if he might still be….” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
He wasn’t supposed to say where he would be, but he nodded anyway.
Rarely had he seen his mother cry, but she now dabbed at tears.
Maria broke the awkward silence. “You said you’re in a backup role. So you won’t be involved in the fighting? You’ll be safe?”
No. Hundreds of guys will have guns and be shooting at each other. He smiled. “We’ll be fine. We’re just supporting other troops. Nothing will happen.”
* * *
The sheriff threw a file onto his desk.
Caden, in a brown winter jacket and jeans, stepped into the office. “What’s the problem?”
Hoover spun around. “Oh…you. I’ve got to get the deputies to warn me when you come.”
Caden chuckled. “Is this a bad time?”
“No…well, are there any good times now?”
“These are difficult times, but what do you mean exactly?”
Hoover plopped into the seat behind his desk. “Remember those people we arrested for breaking into the school greenhouse?”
Caden nodded.
