by John O'Brien
“Yes, that’s a recent addition. However, we won’t have them for too much longer. They’re down to the last of their fuel reserves. Speaking of fuel, it looks like you have at least one refinery partially operational. Is that correct?” I ask.
“Hmmm…well, why don’t we talk about that once we get to know each other better,” Vince responds.
“Fair enough. I’m curious. You seem to be living well here and don’t appear to have trouble going into buildings. I guess what I’m getting at, you don’t seem to have problems with night runners,” I say, and then explain what they are.
“We had some problems early on. It was tough getting enough supplies to survive, but I guess the cold got to them. Each night, there was less and less of the screaming. Of course, there weren’t that many hours of darkness, so maybe that had something to do with it. Eventually, there weren’t any left, but they took down too many of us before that happened,” Vince states. “So, now it’s my turn to be curious. I’d like to hear your story.”
I begin telling the gathered men our tale. I gloss over some of the details or we’d be sitting for days – although it would be nice to settle back in the comfy chairs, pour drinks, and tell stories, I don’t have that kind of time. I watch their expressions darken when I get around to the previous occupants of the bunker and the activities of that group. I relate our actions, including the information in the files that led us here.
“Currently, we have around four hundred people in our compound, which is almost equivalent to the total of all other groups of survivors that we’ve located,” I state, finishing.
“That’s quite the story and I’m shocked to hear that’s all that’s left. And, just so you know, your information isn’t entirely correct. We have nearly twelve hundred people here,” Vince comments. “We’ve had a lot of people show up recently from some of the other refineries and settlements up north.”
“How is it that you have so many?” Gonzalez asks.
“Well, I guess it depends on your perspective, and what you mean by ‘so many.’ At one time, there were nearly seventy thousand residents working the oil fields and refineries. We were on the bottom of the list for the vaccine, and the recall came before we administered it to everyone. However, that notice didn’t come soon enough,” Vince answers, his eyes going vacant as he folds into his memories.
“I’m sorry to hear that. It seems no one has escaped this evil,” I say.
Vince shakes his head, coming out of his momentary reverie. “You wanted to know about the refinery. Yes, we managed to get a part of it operational. We’re only producing enough to supply our needs…diesel, kerosene, and some automotive fuels. In addition, we’re processing some oil as we need it.”
“Do you have the capability to produce more?” I ask.
“We have the ability to ramp up if needed. There is an abundant supply of oil in the sands around and it’s just a matter of personnel. We have plenty of storage and can produce quite a bit over time,” he responds.
“What about jet fuel? I mean military fuel, not the Jet-A kind with its additives.”
“We don’t have that capability here. I believe the Scotsford refinery down at Fort Saskatchewan has a facility that can produce that type.”
I look at him blankly, having no idea where that is. Noticing my expression, he clarifies. “That’s about four hundred kilometers south of here…a little over two hundred miles.”
“How do you transport the fuel out of here?” I ask.
“We have several pipelines out. One goes to Vancouver, B.C., another heads down the Washington State coastline to California. There’s another that goes down into Texas and one additional one that heads east. Oh, and we have a pipeline that goes to the Scotsford refinery. From there, the fuel and oil is transported by rail or truck,” Vince replies.
“Do those pipelines transport the refined fuel or just straight oil?”
“All but the one to Scotsford carries crude oil. The one down south, there are actually several of them running in tandem, transports both crude and refined.”
“I won’t lie, a fuel supply like that would certainly help us out on the long run. How are you set up for supplies?” I ask.
“It’s difficult to keep so many fed. There are plenty of wells to draw from, so water isn’t a problem. We’ve pretty much cleaned out the canned goods from the stores, but the hunting is good. It takes a lot to feed this many and I don’t think the hunting will keep us fed indefinitely. As it is, we’re in the process of setting up several greenhouses that we’ll supplement with grow lights. At the moment, our resources are stretched thin with us refining fuel and storing it for the winter, chopping wood, hunting, and another thousand projects. With winter coming, we need to be prepared. The daylight hours will be short, the hunting not as great, and it will be bitterly cold. We have enough fuel already stored that we can keep the lights on and our houses warm. After that…” Vince shrugs.
“You know. Perhaps we can work something out that’s beneficial for both of us. How difficult would it be to pipe the fuels to, what did you say, the Scotsford plant?”
“Refinery, but it wouldn’t be that difficult to open the pipelines up. Each terminus is directed into storage tanks. Of course, that would require people at the facility itself and we honestly don’t have people to spare,” Vince replies. “Plus, we’d have to get the pumping stations up and running.”
“Well, that brings me to another point. The fifty soldiers with us, well, we were going to offer their services to you. If you’ll have them, that is?”
“Why wouldn’t you need them or want them with you?” Vince asks.
I tell him of our cramped situation and of dispersing other soldiers to those at Mountain Home, emphasizing their help in restoring peace to that community. I leave off my trust issues, as that’s, well, my issue.
“I appreciate the offer, and it would be a tremendous help. But I worry about incorporating fifty trained soldiers that I don’t know. We have a working community, and frankly, my concern is that they may try and take over,” Vince states. “We’ve achieved a semblance of balance that I wouldn’t want to see upset.”
“I completely understand your concerns. We only recently came into contact with them, but I’ve had the chance to work with a number of them without any problems. I’ll personally vouch for their conduct and we’ll maintain radio communication with you. You can deal with them how you like, and if you run into any problems, let us know and we’ll come up to help. I will mention, though, that our ability to fly will be hampered by the weather, and in the long term, by our fuel going bad,” I respond.
“Radio contact? How will we accomplish that? We have a few ham radios and portable radios that we keep in the trucks. Other than that, we don’t have much.”
“We’ll set up some equipment we brought that will allow satellite communication for as long as they stay in orbit. That will only be a couple of months at best, but it’s something. After that, we’ll have to rely on the ham radios,” I say.
“Well, perhaps we can work something out, then.”
“One question. Who is in charge here?”
“Well, we have a committee that we use, but I’ve been, well, I guess the best term would be the operations manager. So, although we make our plans and exigencies though the committee, I pretty much make any operational decisions,” Vince answers.
“Okay, back to our prior discussion, we could help out with your supply needs if that would free up some of your personnel to help with our fuel supplies,” I say.
“That sounds like a great trade in theory, but it’s much more than opening a few switches. Take, for instance, the transportation from the southern refinery to your location. That would be quite an undertaking, almost impossible, let alone getting power to the pumping stations.”
“That may be. But, I imagine if we can get the rail lines working, and someone who knows how to run the engines, we could manually set the rail switches to a specific destin
ation. There we could offload the fuel into trucks of our own, and if we put box cars on the train, we’d load up food supplies for the trip back north,” I offer. “As for the pumping stations, would wind or solar work?”
Vince pauses and looks at the other men. Turning back, “We have several people around here that could operate the engines. It would be an endeavor to get the tracks right, but if we had the routes, we could manually set the tracks on the first trip. We wouldn’t be able to do that in winter though. It would strictly be a summertime thing. Each pumping stations has its own generator, but we could supplement that in the future. It would be a matter of keeping the tanks supplying the generators full. But, that’s a logistics problem I’m sure we can work out.”
“I can see the trip only being available during the warmer months. So, perhaps it would be an annual exchange of fuel for goods. I know some of the other compounds are surrounded by good farmland and cattle, and we have access to numerous distribution centers. Something like this could work, once we managed the logistics. And, in the meantime, we could ferry supplies to you before winter hits, as weather allows,” I comment.
“There’s a large train yard in Edmonton. Perhaps, if we take in the soldiers, they could drive down and retrieve a working map of the train routes.”
“That would be up to you, if you plan to take them.”
“I’ll have to put this forward to the committee, but I think they’ll approve. If we had adequate supplies, it would free up a lot of our personnel resources, which would be a great help,” Vince says.
“And, the soldiers we leave behind could train your people. There are marauders out there and the train would need to be guarded.”
“Agreed. I’ll be sure and mention that to them.”
“Well, if you want to meet with your people, I’ll return to the aircraft and talk it over with mine. I’ll return with the radio equipment as well. Where would you like it to be installed?”
Vince drives us to a high school that they’ve been using as a headquarters. We work out ham frequencies and a communication schedule. He contacts the members of his committee by radio and we drive back to the 130, letting Robert know that we are returning, and brief Montore on our conversation.
Back at the airfield, I contact base, informing Frank and Lynn of what transpired. Bannerman joins them and I tell him what may be in the works. It will take a lot of coordination, but he states that he’ll contact the other groups and see if they want in on the deal if the folks at Fort McMurray agree to the plan. He’ll also start hauling supplies out of the distribution center that we can load up and deliver when it becomes possible.
“The only question is: Where will we eventually be meeting to deliver and receive supplies?” Bannerman asks.
“We’ll have to discuss that when I return,” I answer. “It’s getting late in the day here, so we’ll meet with Vince, set up their radio, and leave in the morning.”
“Are you coming back this way?” Lynn asks.
“I thought we might pay those caves a visit,” I reply.
“Jack, if those soldiers remain with the folks up there, it will only leave you with two teams. And not a full two at that,” she says.
“We’ll just scout it out,” I respond.
There’s a long pause. Each second, I shrink farther into my seat anticipating her reply. “You better do that, and only that, Jack!”
“Okay.”
“Jack, I know what ‘okay’ means. I mean it!”
“Okay.”
“You’re hopeless. I’ll see you when you get back,” Lynn says, and signs off.
“That could have gone better,” Greg says from behind.
“It could also have gone a lot worse,” I comment.
Loading the Stryker up with the radio equipment, we head back to the school, where Montore and Red Team begin setting up the gear while I meet with Vince.
“Well, Jack, the committee agrees to the idea in general. We’ll take the soldiers with the stipulation that they take their orders from me. They won’t be allowed near a radio, at least initially. It’s not that I don’t trust you; it’s that some of the others, well, have some reservations. Some even commented that you are planting the soldiers here to take over,” Vince states.
“I understand. Arm them or use them as you will. They’re yours. Keep in mind that a lot of them are new to the situation, having been in a sheltered position. They have loved ones that they know nothing about. It will also take them some time getting used to the changes in conditions. Once we establish radio communications, you’ll get a list of names from other survivor camps. If you could do the same here and pass it along, perhaps we’ll be able to reunite a few families,” I say.
“Okay, we can do that. The other thing is that the committee won’t do anything until we receive the load of supplies you mentioned. It’s kind of a show of good faith. However, once it arrives, they’ve agreed to release about five hundred people to the Scotsford facility to aid in the transfer to rail cars, and possibly get part of the refinery operational. We’ll have to look over the area first to make sure there aren’t others around. Honestly, that’s way more than I expected them to agree to.”
“So, we bring an aircraft loaded with supplies, and you’ll see to the beginning of the fuel supply?”
“That’s essentially it. There’s a lot more to it than that, but we may be able to get a load down before winter sets in,” Vince says.
“That’s great news. Our priorities would be diesel and jet fuel. We have some vehicles running on bio-fuels, but we haven’t changed any generators over as yet.”
“We’ll have to see about that jet fuel once we get to the Scotsford refinery, but diesel shouldn’t be a problem. Like I said, it will be getting the train on the right track, so to speak.”
“We’ll contact you when we can fly up with the supplies, then. It’s been a pleasure, Vince.”
The radio equipment is set up and tested. Vince arranges for the others at the aircraft to be transported in. Montore briefs the soldiers, telling them that they will fall under Vince’s command and that they’ll be notified if we find out anything regarding their families. With the sun setting early, we join some of the others in town for a meal, and after hours of hearty conversation, we retire into hotel rooms.
I don’t sleep well. With darkness fully upon the land, I feel anxious about sleeping in a hotel room with no barricades or fortifications. I jump at every noise, thinking night runners are out hunting. It’s disconcerting and I remember Greg telling of his experience with the people at Lamar, how he felt sleeping in similar circumstances, but how relaxed and at ease the townspeople were. I heard him, but didn’t fully understand what he meant until this moment. I could get used to this, although it would take some time for the nervousness to disappear. If only Harold can figure out how to get the satellite operational. The bunker enters my mind and how it might provide for a feeling of peace. Perhaps it is time for us to move.
In the morning, we leave the soldiers behind with a supply of weapons and ammo. The trip has been a good one, and resulted in a lot more than I expected. If it all works out, we may have a fuel source that will extend our ability to freely move about. We may even be able establish a form of manufacturing in the long term. That is, if we are able to survive that long. This could be a giant step forward. Of course, that very thing worries me. So far, with each advance that we’ve made, something comes along to set us back. That seems to be the nature of things these days.
With Montore and Red and Echo Teams in the back, we get ready for takeoff. I notice Robert glancing periodically between the windsock blowing in a stiff wind and the city lying in the distance.
“So, how can you tell about wind shear without any other clues? I can’t see the smoke from here,” Robert states.
My story and the turbulence coming down final yesterday must have had a telling effect on him. While it’s something to keep in mind, it’s not something that should be an overridi
ng factor and I can only hope that I didn’t scare him too much. Hopefully it’s just something that he’s adding to his bag of tricks. The only real thing anyone can do if it’s encountered is to ride it out and hope there is enough altitude to recover. In the past, I had weather reports that showed the winds aloft and the facilities had warning indicators to show dramatic changes in wind direction or speed. Now, although we have great navigation instruments and computers, we’re mostly down to crossing our fingers.
“It’s rare for bad wind shears to occur. They’re mostly prevalent when thunderstorms are in the area, although they do happen at other times. If the aircraft starts sinking from a loss of lift like that, the instinct is to pull back. But you have to treat it like a stall, which it essentially is; you have to push forward to get air flowing back across the wings,” I answer.
Airborne, we make a pass over the city and rock our wings, saying goodbye to Vince and those with him. Turning south, I watch as the city slides past our wings and disappears behind.
Spelunking
I radio Cabela’s to let them know of the town’s decision. Bannerman will send out crews to the southern distribution center to begin gathering supplies and storing them for when we’ll be able to return. As we’ll just be delivering a load of supplies, we won’t need much in terms of a break in the weather. Given the flight time, we could be in and out in a day, even though the hours of daylight up north are short…and getting even more so.
The flight down to Colorado Springs is a much longer one and will take us almost four and a half hours. Given our early morning departure, we may be able to scout the area and get to the caves without having to stay the night. According to Greg’s story, unlike both Lamar and Fort McMurray, there are numerous night runners hunting the streets during the night. It’s definitely a place to be behind fortified walls during the hours of darkness.
Once we level off, I hand the controls over to Robert and head into the back to go over a plan of action with Greg. He’s been there, observed everything first hand, and managed to sneak into the cave system. We gather on the crew chief’s bunk and spread out a map.
