Collective Retribution

by Edwards, D. S.

  “How do the lights work down here, Nirsch?” Luke asked.

  “This facility is completely separated from the main power grid. Large underground generators charge a bank of lithium ion batteries. The whole room is surrounded by a continuous metal shield and buried under eighty feet of concrete, rock, and dirt. When the doors are closed, it is airtight. No EMP can reach the interior. Every military base in the nation has a similar facility. The larger bases have facilities ten to fifteen times this size. Some even house aircraft and tanks.”

  Nirsch pointed to a wall lined with containers. “Grab a few of those gas cans against the wall and fill them with diesel over at the pump. Also grab a few extra cans and fill them with regular. Might be a good idea to grab a couple of those portable fuel pumps too.”

  They filled the gas cans. Nirsch was relieved when the airman didn’t question him about the extra fuel. The airman just walked over, fired up one of the pickups, loaded an ATV in the back, pulled the pickup up to the diesel pump, and topped off the tank. When the cans were secured in the back, Nirsch addressed the airman a final time.

  “We’re both going to need full body armor, as well as a weapon for the good sheriff.”

  Airman Morgan walked over to a large cabinet at the base of the stairs. He looked Nirsch and Luke over, then handed each body armor, helmets, and several tac radios. He also gave Luke an M-24 rifle with ten extra clips.

  “We’re set,” Nirsch said to Luke. “You ready to face the outside?”

  “Ready when you are. I guess.”

  “Let’s do it, then.”

  Airman Morgan pushed a button on the back wall. Powerful motors whined and the whole wall began to rise. Nirsch fired up the vehicle and put it in gear.

  “Here we go.”

  They drove through the opening, down a long concrete tunnel, and up a steep ramp into the outside air.

  12

  OCHOCO MOUNTAINS

  4:50 P.M.

  “HELP!”

  Larry and Amanda had taken just two steps beyond the guardrail. They froze in their tracks and strained to listen through the icy wind.

  “Help us!”

  “Where’s that coming from?” Larry said.

  Amanda pointed down the highway. “I think it’s coming from down that way.”

  “Come on.”

  They climbed back over the guardrail, jogged down the highway, and rounded a corner. Larry could barely see though the blackness and snow that was blowing sideways. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hello, can you hear me? We don’t see you. Talk to me and we’ll follow your voice!”

  “Over here. Help us, my partner isn’t moving. I’m stuck, I can’t get out!”

  “Hold on, we’re coming!”

  They ran to the guardrail and peered over. The moon had risen. Silvery light diffused through clouds and snow-filled air bathed the landscape in an eerie glow, exposing a scene of destruction below them. Fifty feet down the bank was part of a Subaru SUV wrapped around a large juniper tree. The snow around the vehicle was littered with debris. Blood had turned the snow a dirty orange color.

  They climbed over the guardrail and slid down the bank through waist-deep snow. Larry climbed up on the side of the SUV and peered through the broken-out window. The sight that greeted him turned his stomach. He leaned over the side of the car and expelled the Kung Pao chicken and fried rice he’d so enjoyed two hours earlier. He wiped his mouth with the back of his shaking hand, took a deep breath of frigid air, and looked into the car again.

  A man, alive, was pinned under the dash. The engine had pushed through the front of the car and amputated both of his legs. One leg could be seen sticking out of the twisted metal pointing towards his companion. The other was missing its foot and was wedged between the air cleaner and radiator at least four feet away. The girl next to him wasn’t moving, and Larry knew she would not move again. Her head was flopped over at an odd angle, facing backwards. A tree limb had pushed through her door and impaled her, taking her organs and part of her spine with it when it exited the other side. The man had bits of bone from his girlfriend’s spine scattered across his waist.

  “What’s your name?” Larry said.

  “I’m Tree, and my partner is Nyla.”

  “Are you in pain, Tree?”

  “No, not really. I’m just cold.”

  “Was there anyone else in the car with you?”

  “No, just us and our dog, Bailey. He was in the backseat. Oh, Bailey…” He began to cry.

  “Hold on and I’ll see if I can get you out. I’ll be right back.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Help Nyla first,” he choked out between sobs.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  Larry climbed down and motioned for Amanda to follow him. They stood by a small tree. “There’s nothing we can do for them,” he whispered. “His girlfriend is dead, and he won’t live half an hour. He’s bleeding to death and there’s no way I can stop the bleeding. Both his legs are gone. His femoral arteries are draining him of life. All we can do is keep him company and give him some hope until he dies.”

  Amanda, eyes wide, nodded her head in response. They both walked back to the SUV.

  “Tree, help is on the way,” Larry shouted up to the open window. “The ambulance should be here soon. I can’t risk hurting you or Nyla any further, so you’ll have to sit tight until they arrive. Can you do that?”

  “Okay.”

  Larry thought it would be a good idea to keep Tree talking.

  “So, where are you from Tree?”

  “Portland,” he answered weakly. “We live in Portland.”

  “That’s a nice city. I’ve been there a few times. What are you guys doing on this side of the mountains?”

  “We were snowshoeing in the Strawberry Wilderness Area. Nyla is writing her master’s thesis on the effects of global warming in the subalpine ecosystem.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  Tree coughed and gasped for air. Larry quickly scrambled back up on the side of the car.

  “How ya doin’, Tree?”

  “I’m cold and tired. I’m afraid to close my eyes. What if I have like a concussion or something?”

  “I’m pretty sure you can close your eyes and rest until the ambulance gets here. Just try and lie still.”

  “Okay. Thanks, man. You’re a good person. You’ll have good karma.”

  With those words, Tree fell asleep. He wouldn’t be waking up.

  Larry climbed down from the SUV and shook his head. “He’s gone.”

  “What now?” Amanda said.

  “He said they were snowshoeing. I think we need to find the snowshoes if we’re going to walk down to one of those farms.”

  They searched the debris field, then Larry climbed inside the SUV. He found a backpack containing dried fruit and granola, a few bottles of water, and one pair of snowshoes wedged under the front seat, which he retrieved.

  Larry climbed back out and looked for Amanda. “You find anything?”

  Amanda’s voice was faint over the blowing snow. “I think I found the other part of the car!”

  Larry slid down the hill and joined her next to the back half of the Subaru. It looked mostly intact. It was as if someone had taken a saw and made a clean cut just in front of the back doors. Two stickers still visible on the bumper read “Love Your Mother” and “Coexist.” Larry climbed into the backseat.

  “Eureka!”

  He handed out another pair of snowshoes, two pairs of Sorrel boots, a backpack, a bundle of rope wound around a climbing ax, two down jackets, a couple of stocking hats, and two pairs of Arctic Shield mittens. Larry’s tennis shoes were soaked and his feet were starting to get numb. He closely examined the bigger pair of boots and held them up to the bottom of his foot.

  “I think these just might fit. Try the other ones. We need to get out of these wet shoes and keep our feet dry or we could get frostbite.”

  They sat in the snow and tried on the boot
s. Larry’s fit perfectly. Amanda’s were slightly too large.

  “What do you think?” Larry said.

  “They’re a little big, but my feet are already warmer.”

  “Do you need anything out of our rental car? I don’t know if we’ll be coming back up here tonight.”

  “I don’t think so. I just want to get someplace warm.”

  “Okay, let’s get goin’ then. You need help with those snowshoes?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Larry helped Amanda into her new snowshoes and buckled his on. They got into the down jackets, gloves, and hats, hoisted on the backpacks, and trudged into the night. Larry hoped they were heading toward someplace warm and safe.

  13

  KLAMATH FALLS AIRPORT

  5:25 P.M.

  NIRSCH AND LUKE MADE THEIR WAY IN THE PICKUP ACROSS the base to the exit gate. An airman waved them through. It was nearly dark.

  “You know where the hospital is?” Nirsch asked Luke.

  “Yes. North end of town.”

  “I think we should avoid main highways. We don’t know how clogged they’ll be.”

  “Why’re we going to the hospital?” Luke said. “I thought you made it up when you told the colonel we were going to town. I thought we were headed toward Lakeview.”

  “We will be soon. But it wouldn’t be right to leave the local authorities without communication abilities.”

  “Turn left then. We can head toward Highway 97. If it’s clogged, we’ll go through town.”

  They turned onto the road. The lack of street lights was eerie. Abandoned cars were everywhere. Some contained bodies slumped over steering wheels or hanging half out into the road. People walked around in a daze. Fires burned, including some homes. Several people tried to stop the vehicle. Nirsch had to swerve to keep from hitting them and the abandoned cars.

  He felt nauseous. He’d seen death and destruction before, but not to this extent, even in war. These people were totally lost. Many would not survive a week. He wondered how bad it was in the larger cities that weren’t bombed. Grocery store food supplies would soon be exhausted. In a week, some of these people will be killing their neighbors for the last scrap of bread. Only those who were prepared for disaster will survive.

  “I think we should go around town,” Nirsch said, “to avoid as many people as we can.”

  The farther from town they got, the fewer people they saw. A few farmhouses had candles burning in the windows. In one, they saw an armed man silhouetted by the flickering candlelight. It won’t be long before people from town wander out here looking for food, Nirsch thought. Those who come to take will be shot. Those who ask will be helped. He had no doubt that most of the people living out here would survive to rebuild the country.

  Highway 97 was a parking lot. They had to drive on the shoulder and in the median. It took nearly an hour for them to get back to the north side of town. A tractor trailer had overturned, releasing hundreds of Black Angus cattle that were now grazing between cars on the side of the road. In town, they saw people carrying torches and hauling out store inventories through broken windows. People were rioting and burning cars. A few people took shots at them, but they never slowed down enough for the bullets to find their mark.

  The hospital was easy to find. Situated partway up a hill, it was the only building for miles with lights on. They drove off the road. Nirsch turned the headlights off and climbed the hill behind the hospital. They parked in a deep draw behind some sagebrush. They both grabbed their rifles and a few tac radios and slowly moved down the hill toward the back of the hospital.

  Through the trees, they saw a crowd of at least twenty people trying to push its way in past two airmen who had rifles raised. “Stand back!” one yelled. “This entrance is closed. You can go to the front and someone will help you.”

  The crowd was getting larger and growing bolder. It was just a matter of time before they pushed past the guards.

  “Watch our back,” Nirsch whispered to Luke. “This could get messy.” Nirsch cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted down to the crowd. “Everybody back off!”

  No one seemed to hear him. He pointed his rifle at the dirt and squeezed off a short burst. Everyone, including the two airmen, dove to the ground. Nirsch shouted again.

  “Everybody back off! You are not going in this way. Now get up and move to the front of the hospital.”

  No one moved, so he raised the rifle and looked down the iron sights at the crowd.

  “Now, people. The next shot won’t be in the dirt.”

  The crowd slowly got to its feet and started moving toward the front of the building. The last of them were just disappearing around the corner when a man pushed back through the crowd.

  “Gun!” shouted Luke.

  The man rushed the door and began wildly firing a pistol. Nirsch raised his rifle in a flash and squeezed the trigger in a double tap, catching the man in the middle of the chest. The man crumpled to the ground and skidded to a stop, spraying flecks of blood on the boots of the surprised airmen. The rest of the crowd disappeared quickly.

  Nirsch rushed to the man and checked his pulse. He was dead.

  “I need to get to the lab!” Nirsch shouted at the airmen.

  They didn’t move or look up. They were still stunned.

  “Hey, airmen! The lab!”

  One shook his head and turned.

  “I need to get to the lab,” Nirsch said a little more calmly. “We just came from Colonel Snider. He sent you some working radios. I want to check in with the lab.” He pulled a couple of radios from his vest and handed them to the white-faced airman.

  “Go on in,” the airman said. “Take a left, go down the stairs, and turn right. The lab is at the end of the hallway.” He paused for a second, then looked Nirsch in the eye. “Thank you for that.” He gestured toward the body at his feet.

  The other airman opened the door and waved them inside. The hospital was in total chaos. Nirsch stopped a nurse and asked for directions to the supply room.

  “I thought we were going to the lab,” Luke said as they weaved in and out of the sick, injured, and dying people lying in the hallways and the doctors and nurses scrambling around them.

  “No. I just needed an excuse to come in and pick up a few things we may need.”

  Luke kept watch at the supply room while Nirsch stuffed medical supplies into a linen bag. They slipped out the back door of the hospital, stepping around two orderlies loading the man Nirsch had shot onto a gurney. Nirsch and Luke worked their way back up the hill to the truck. At the top of the draw, two deer burst out of the brush, causing Nirsch to raise his rifle and drop to one knee.

  “You’d better leave town,” he said to the deer as their white rumps faded into the darkness. “There’s going to be some hungry folks in a few days who’ll think you look pretty tasty.”

  Luke laughed. “I certainly wouldn’t want to be a deer right now, or one of those cows we passed on Highway 97.”

  They got to the truck. Nirsch threw the bag of medical supplies in the backseat, got down on his knees, and reached under the dashboard.

  “Keep guard for a minute,” he said. “I don’t want any surprises while I’m working on our rig.”

  “What’s up?” Luke said.

  “I need to get into the electrical system and disconnect the GPS chip. Within a week, they’ll have new global positioning satellites in orbit. I’d prefer they didn’t know where this particular vehicle is located.”

  Luke scanned the area as he spoke. “I don’t know exactly what you do for the government, but I have a feeling you haven’t spent much time behind a desk. How do you know all this stuff?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve had to learn how to think on my feet over the years. I have spent quite a bit of time in some less than desirable situations.”

  Nirsch removed the GPS chip and replaced the cover on the fuse box.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Nirsch drove in stealth
mode, leaving the headlights off. They bounced down the hill, dropped off the radios at the state police office, then started toward the sheriff’s office. The moon had risen, bathing the world in a silvery glow and exposing the carnage. The devastation was far worse than anything Nirsch could have imagined. In a week, the stench of rotting corpses would be unbearable.

  They traveled in silence. Neither felt much like talking.

  14

  KLAMATH COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE

  6:50 P.M.

  SHERIFF BILL GIBSON, ILLUMINATED BY THE FLICKER OF CANDLES, stood in front of his deputies in a back room inside the county sheriff’s office. The odor of pine trees mixed with the scent of twilight rainforest, gingerbread, snicker doodle, and blueberry pie was overpowering and nauseating. Leave it to Mary Jo to buy scented emergency candles, Gibson thought. I love that woman, but sometimes …

  Only five deputies were present. The rest had abandoned their posts three hours earlier to rush home to their families.

  Gibson cleared his throat. “All right, listen up guys. We still don’t know what happened. Several of you have your theories and I have mine. None of that matters right now. All that matters is there are people hurting and scared out there. For all they know, it’s the end of the world, and it just may be. We have a duty to protect the people we can and to restore some type of order to our community. We will be going out in teams of two to lend aid where we can and protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

  The sheriff let that sink in for a long minute.

  “We don’t have enough bikes to go around,” Gibson continued, “so Gene, I need you to take one of the mountain bikes out to my place and saddle Buck and five of the mares, string ‘em in line, and get back as soon as you can. It will be easier to get around on horseback anyway. Make sure you announce yourself loudly before you get through the front gate, or Mary Jo’s liable to put a thirty-aught-six between your eyes.”