by John O'Brien
Reaching the Interstate, I turn southbound heading toward the next exit which will take us to Fred Meyer. The flight computer and watch will come in handy. While that is a mostly true statement, I also know it is a little bit of a rationale. Part of it is that it is a nice watch, I want it, and it is just sitting there.
The lanes of the Interstate stretch out ahead and behind. There are a couple of on the shoulders of the road but for the most part, it is as empty as any other road we have seen. A semi is pulled off just prior to the exit with triangle hazard reflector sitting along the road behind it. Passing by it, I take the exit ramp. I had expected the exit ramps this close to town to be partially blocked or at least have a few more cars on them but it is completely clear. Coming to the intersection at the top of the ramp, I notice the traffic lights are dark. Either the emergency power that was operating yesterday has now failed or just in this part of town. Proceeding across the street, with Robert behind, we pull into the parking lot.
I stop just before and in front of the first doors in the shadow of the building. There are no cars in the parking lot and the front glass doors stare back at us with darkness inside. I leave the Jeep running as I step outside and walk to the back gathering everyone else.
“The jewelry store is just inside these doors to the right so we won’t have to go in very far,” I say nodding in the direction of the doors. “It opens up in front and to the left as well. I want Robert and Michelle inside but just at the doors. Nic and Bri, you stay here with the cars.”
I gather the flashlights we brought with us. “Robert, you cover to the left with your light and Michelle, you cover ahead. I’ll be going in and to the right,” I tell them passing out the lights. “We don’t need anything here so we leave if there is anything inside. Call out if you see anything.”
Before closing the rear door, I take the new duct tape and slide it around my left wrist once more thinking, this would have been a great ad for duct tape. Bite protection. I actually plan on using it to tape and smash in the glass in the jewelry counter.
“Robert, go start your car and leave it running,” I tell him as I slowly move toward the front door.
There are two sets of double doors with glass panels set in between. Looking inside the glass panel to the right, I see that the radiant light from outside stretches a fair ways inside. Clothing racks to the left and fruit stands ahead. Looking to the right, I see the security fence to the jewelry store is still open. Thank god, I think flicking on my light. Pressing the light against the glass in the same manner as I did at the gas station, I move the light around the inside. A Starbucks counter comes into view as does a deli counter stretching into the darkness next to it. I play the light around the area but discern no movement within.
“Test the doors,” I tell Robert as I continue to run my light around the inside.
I see one of the doors open slightly in my peripheral. “They’re unlocked,” he says.
“Okay,” I say pushing myself away from the glass panel glad for 24 hour stores. Pushing the door open with my shoulder, I step inside followed by Robert and then Michelle. “You two hold these doors open.”
Glancing back outside, I see Nic and Bri leaning against the Jeep. “Robert, you have that area there,” I whisper sweeping an arc with my light to the left. “Michelle, you have that one,” lighting another arc in front. I step ahead and to the right as their beams sweep thjeir designated areas.
It’s a little darker in the jewelry portion of the store due to the angle it sits with not much radiant light from outside. The same goes for the rest of the store. An inky blackness swallows up the areas where my light doesn’t reach. I edge up to the jewelry entrance and peek around the corner with the flashlight extended out. A slow check of the inside reveals nothing but the glass cases of rings, bracelets, and watches. Inside, I lean over the first counter to my right shining the light along the aisle behind the counter. Nothing. Moving to the far glass case, I do the same. Nothing. Checking back out into the store proper, I flash my light down the aisle stretching away. Nothing.
I set the light on the glass in front of me with the light playing out into the store, covering the area as best as I can while ripping off several lengths of duct tape. I cover a section of glass with the tape to prevent glass flying and it cuts down on the noise. I pull out my knife and smack down on the glass with the butt hearing the glass crack below the tape. I hit it again and the glass gives. I tap a few more time to clear away the glass around the edges and lift the tape peeling the broken glass with it. Reaching in, I grab the watch sticking it in my pocket for later as a loud CRACK-BOOM fills the inside of the store.
I grab the flashlight and spin around toward the front entrance, going to my knee and bringing my gun to bear. My light stabs out toward the entrance. I am just in time to see a strobe-like light flash and another gunshot sounds rolls through the interior. I don’t see Robert or Michelle as the wall to the jewelry store blocks my view of the front doors. I see both of their lights are flashing over the clothes section where Robert was covering. “What is it?” I call out.
“I saw something moving over by the clothes racks,” Robert calls back. “I think there were a couple of them.”
“I’m coming out,” I say and walk to the entrance, panning my light once around my area and then focusing it over to where theirs are flashing.
My light catches something lying on the ground under and next to a section of clothes racks. I can’t really make out what it is but it does resemble a shoulder or something similar.
“Anyone there?” I call out circling around to the right to get a clearer look.
No answer. I continue to circle around. “Did you hit anything?” I ask panning my light to check out the area to my side and behind me.
I look over to Robert and Michelle who are holding the front doors open with their bodies with their lights and guns pointed into the area I am circling toward.
“I think so but I’m not sure,” Robert answers.
“Michelle, cover the area behind me to your right,” I say and see her switch her positions. Her light momentarily flashes over me as it transitions behind me.
I approach whatever is lying on the ground. It is definitely a shoulder with pale skin but not the pale gray skin of the things I saw yesterday. The body is wearing some kind of light halter top. I also see what appears to be another body on the ground next to the first one. The head must be at an awkward angle as I can’t see it or any hair. And, if they were hit, where’s the blood? A sudden flash of understanding goes off in my head; the light bulb comes on shining brightly. I chuckle and then my flashlight wavers as this turns into a full blown laugh.
“What?” Robert asks confusedly. “What?”
“And the score after a round one is Robert — 2, Mannequins — 0,” I call back noticing they were actually pretty nice shots from that distance with a .45. It looks like he hit the mannequin closest to me in the neck, turning it into dust and launching the head somewhere off into the darkness. I don’t venture closer to the other one to find out where he hit.
“”You’re kidding!” He calls over. “But I saw it move.”
“Trick of the darkness.”
I start back toward them and catch a trickle of movement out of the corner of my eye. I drop to my knee once again, focusing my light toward where I caught the flash of movement. My light focuses on the end of a row of shelves and such where underwear and socks hang on display.
“What the hell!?” I whisper trying to focus my eyes sharper.
Yes, I talk to myself quite a bit. I swear I am looking at part of a hand poking out slightly from the end of the shelf about twenty five feet away. I am at an almost right angle to the shelf unit so I can’t see down the aisle much. Really not at all. It looks like the pale fingers of a hand poking out in an almost sprinters start position. Fingertips on the ground; fingers rigid and palm raised. A thought crosses that perhaps Robert’s second round hit the arm and the hand flew ove
r there. Possible perhaps. But what moved then?
I start to rise from my knee to a crouching position when I see the hand move back slightly into the aisle. Not much, just an inch or two. Okay, I’m outta here, I think rising the rest of the way and back toward the front doors.
“There’s something back there,” I mention as arriving at the doors. “I think you maybe did see something. Nice job.”
“What is it?” Michelle asks as we step out into the shadow of the building and let the front doors swing shut.
“I don’t know and I’m not all that keen on finding out.”
“Time check?” I ask as we step towards Nicole and Bri. “Oh, wait. I don’t need to ask that anymore,” I say reaching into my pocket and pull out my new watch.
I see the hands move as it automatically synchs up. As long as the satellites stay in place, we will have auto time. I don’t how long we’ll have the use of satellites but I don’t think it will be for much longer. Satellite orbits decay fairly quickly if they don’t get their boosts to help them stay in orbit. Even if those boosts are set automatically, they will eventually run out of fuel, fall back towards Earth, and burn up in the atmosphere. I set the watch for Greenwich Time on the digital display and the analog time for Pacific. The watch hands wind to 07:27. Time to head north.
We head out of the parking lot and catch the Interstate northbound. We have about a thirty minute drive north to McChord providing the roads stay clear and all goes well. The sun continues its climb across the cloudless summer sky. A sky devoid of any human activity. As motionless as the roads below. I have only witnessed such a sky devoid of any contrails once before and that was on a fateful September day years ago. It is amazing just how much sensory input we notice yet on a more subconscious level. A certain piece here and another there; forming a picture of our reality at any given moment. We know what should be there and our mind automatically forms it. We know birds should be flying around but we don’t really see them. But take a piece out and we notice. Our subconscious notifies our conscious that it needs to be aware of something. And then there is the part that filters out things so bizarre that it just automatically drops them. We have to train our minds to bring those filtered aspects back in.
A couple of miles into our northbound journey, I notice cars lining up in the right hand lane. At first there were no cars and then suddenly, a traffic jam of cars all in the right lane. I slow and pull over into the right middle lane with the Interstate being four lanes wide at this point. I look into the rearview and see Robert mimicking my lane change. We proceed a little further and soon the middle right lane begins filling with abandoned cars. There are some with their doors open but not in one of them do I actually see anyone. I move over to the far left lane. We are separated from the southbound lanes by a concrete divider and there is only the random car off the road or on the shoulder in those lanes. This is a puzzling but we continue north, hoping the road does not become completely blocked.
The abandoned cars now begin to fill the lane next to us as we drive further north. It appears like they were trying to edge into the far right lanes, like you find at rush hour when a lane becomes blocked ahead and vehicles have to merge into one less lane. I slow way down. Again, I don’t see anyone; alive or otherwise. I imagine if the Christian rapture were to ever happen, then this is what it would look like. No, I take that back. There are far too many people gone.
We proceed along this strange procession until, up ahead, I see the traffic jam has continued up the ramp of the next exit. Cars are completely blocking all lanes of the ramp and I see the jam continuing across the overpass. Again, the light bulb brings clarity to the fog of the unknown. This is the exit to the hospital. Okay, note to self: the hospital areas and roads leading to it will most likely be blocked. I imagine all the roads leading to the hospital are blocked like this. The on ramp to the southbound lanes remains clear. Funny how we tend to be such cattle at times. Why didn’t they think to just use the other lanes? Well, that is a Monday quarterback-type of question. I might have done the same thing.
Passing by the off ramp, I notice a couple of bodies on the sides of road leading upward. I guess people just got tired of waiting and tried to walk to the hospital. That’s why I don’t see anyone in the cars. I also see cars now backed up in the southbound lanes leading to the hospital off ramp. The road clears on our side and I accelerate. I start hoping the off ramps to McChord and FortLewis aren’t like this; or worse. I am not so keen on having to walk to the flight line with all of our gear. And yes, I am aware these two installations had recently merged. It is just that I still think of them by their former names. Just past the exits, five dogs stand on a grassy slope next to the road. Their heads turn slowly as one as we pass slowly by. Our heads turn just like theirs as we watch them. Once past them, I look into the rearview and see them trot toward the long line of cars.
About ten miles further north, the main FortLewis exit appears. There is no traffic in or out of this gate. Traffic barricades are in the road out front and the gate is shut. There is no movement whatsoever at the entrance gate. The first visible buildings of Fort Lewis appear on the right behind a barbed wire topped, chain link fence as we drive a little further north; a few office type buildings and then family housing units. I have passed by many times and have yet to see anyone moving about the area so seeing no one there is not all that strange.
There are a few more cars pulled off the road as we progress further north. We pass by an overturned semi in the south lanes that appears to have slid off the road. It seems so strange that we haven’t seen a soul. I mean, there should have been someone about. Even with the supposed CDC odds of immunity. But nothing greets our journey but the grass, trees, blue sky, and empty, gray lanes. The off ramp to another Fort Lewis exit is as clear as the first. I can’t see the gate from the road but imagine it would look the same — closed. I am not sure, but this also may be the entrance for MadiganHospital as well. Apparently the Army was a little better, or more persuasive, at turning people away. Perhaps something to do with the quarantine I read about.
A blue sign stating “McChord AFB Next Exit” stands by the side of the road ahead of us. I slow and move over to the right lane. Robert, behind me, does the same. I really want to take the exit further up by the mall but I know there is a hospital at that exit and I don’t want to be blocked. Pulling over to the side of the Interstate, I turn off the Jeep and exit. Nicole and Bri, taking this as a clue, get out as well and walk to the back of the Jeep. Robert and Michelle, seeing me get out and apparently deciding I want them to do the same, get out and meet me.
“The gate is off the next exit to the right,” I tell them. “I don’t know what to expect so I’m going to go up there alone in the Jeep. If I’m not back within thirty minutes, assume something happened. You four get in the car as best as you can and get back to Grandma’s house. Understood!”
“Dad? Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” pipes up Nicole.
“It’ll all be okay, hon.”
“Can’t we just go with you?” Bri asks
“No, babe. I really don’t know what to expect so want to scout this one alone. Okay, any questions?”
“What about if we just go to the top of the ramp and watch from there?” Robert chimes in.
“Okay, fine! You can drive to the top but stop a little before you get there. Then you can walk to the intersection. But for god’s sake, don’t go all of the way into the intersection and make yourself totally visible,” I say in exasperation, feeling my hair go a shade grayer.
Stepping back into the Jeep, I crank it up and turn right at the top of the ramp where I am immediately met with a closed gate. Well, I didn’t make it very far. I get out and step up to the gate. It is a chain link gate topped with barbed wire and operated by a motor driving a chain which then propels the gate open and closed. The motor is located at the base of the fence by where the gate withdraws.
With the sun staring me in the eyes, I look up the
road through the gate. The roads bends slightly to the right with trees alongside, hiding the security point. There are no sounds except for the occasional chittering of small animals as they scurry amongst the bushes and the sound of a light breeze as it blows across the tops of the trees. I make out what appears to be a body in the middle of the road where it bends. Are they under a ‘shoot on sight order’? Is there still anyone there at the checkpoint?
I grab a section of the gate fencing and pull as I ponder my approach. I am not too keen to take a round just for showing up at the party. Let’s see, how best to not get shot? I think pulling harder on the gate. The gate doesn’t move in its tracks more than a couple inches so I head to the gate end keeping an eye up the road. Grabbing hold of the aluminum post on the gate end, I pull to the side attempting to open the gate. Other than moving a few inches, it holds firm. I put my foot to the end fence post and strain once again. The fence holds firm initially but then, with a jarring clank, it opens about four inches. The gearing teeth on the motor or chain gave slightly. Another try but apparently, the gate, anticipating this move, holds firm once again. Heading back to the Jeep, I glance back down the road towards the ramp to see the four of them looking at me with hands to forehead shielding their eyes.
Grabbing my wire cutters and a couple of screwdrivers out of my tool box, I walk back to the mule-headed gate. I snip the wires holding the chain link to the post along the side as far as I can reach up and a few along the bottom. Enough so that I can peel the fencing back and slip through. Taking a look around me, I walk over to the gate motor. I unfasten the housing around the chain driving the gate and take the chain off the gear wheel with the screwdrivers similar to the way you take a tire off a bike. The gate moves freely back as I pull it toward me. Okay, we don’t have to walk. Well, from here at least.
