by John O'Brien
“You’ve just made me a very happy man. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She nestles closer and I feel her body lightly shake, her tears wet on my chest. Hugging each other tightly, we fall asleep, my dreams untroubled for the first time in months.
In the morning, I speak with the preacher and find that he’s only too happy to perform a ceremony. Lynn and I aren’t looking for anything extravagant, so we set up something simple for the next morning. Heading into the control room, I radio Harold.
“Good morning, Jack. As requested, I had a satellite take a look at Pearl Harbor. We picked up the radio signal and pinpointed its location. The signal itself is definitely automated. Looking at the building, it seems to be coming from a military installation, but I can’t identify the purpose of the facility. If the previous owners here had a list of military installations, I can’t find them. But, to be honest, I haven’t looked all that hard. If you want me to, I can research that further,” Harold briefs.
“No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Anything I can pass along regarding the imagery? Did you find any sign of survivors?” I ask.
“I didn’t observe any heat signatures coming from within the building, but that in itself doesn’t mean much. They could be deeper within…or underground. The video we took of the surrounding area didn’t reveal any movement or sign of survivors during the day. At night, there are plenty of night runners in the area. I didn’t see any entering or leaving the specific building, but I’ve marked several buildings where they appear to be lairing. The packs I observed are similar in makeup to the ones north of you, although not in the same numbers. Having said that, however, the small amount of footage I have reveals thousands in the area. I’ll send the images and video to you,” Harold says.
“That’s not necessary. There’s not much I can really do with it. Is there a way to send it to Leonard?”
“Sure, just have him contact me and I’ll see that it’s done.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“I also finished conducting an update on the marked camps. You’ve already been in contact with a lot of them, but I wanted to get the files current. I found signs, heat signatures, and camps of several others that weren’t annotated. They’re mostly individuals or very small groups comprising just a few people. More than likely, the previous residents found them, but decided they weren’t worth the effort to log. However, I’ve marked their last locations and will forward the information,” Harold states.
Heading upstairs, I check in on those we rescued. Upon entering the cubicle, three sets of eyes turn in my direction from where they are lying in beds. IV lines run from their arms and they’ve been cleaned up. The doc looks back over his shoulder from where he’s taking a set of vitals. Removing a stethoscope from his ears, he turns.
“How are they doing, doc?”
“They’ll recover in time. They just need rest and food to regain their strength. If they had remained in their condition for a couple more days, it would be a different story,” he answers.
“That’s good news,” I comment, turning to leave.
“Sir,” I hear a hoarse whisper.
Looking over my shoulder, I lock eyes with a woman covered in a sheet. She swallows hard before continuing. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure, ma’am.”
With so much to do, we meet during the day rather than waiting until the evening. I begin by giving everyone the news about Lynn and me, which brings rounds of smiles and congratulations.
“It’s about time,” Greg grumbles, sticking out his hand.
“Okay, let’s get down to business,” I say, accepting the handshakes and well-wishes.
I begin by detailing our excursion into the caves, continuing with our trip up north and the meeting with Vince.
“Essentially, we’re trading fuel in exchange for supplies. The details need to be worked out, but that’s basically it. During the summer, we’ll all meet a train at some location that has yet to be determined. I figure we can initially hit the distribution centers in the non-radiated parts of the country, as we have the ability to fly. The other camps can gather grain and cattle to deliver for an allotment of fuel. As it’s past the growing season, the first year will be with supplies gathered from DCs. In the future, the other camps will have to set up their own distribution and show up at the rendezvous point with their own tanker trucks. Bannerman, can you set up a group to coordinate this?” I ask.
“I can do that. I would suggest, however, that we make subsequent supply runs in late fall. That will give the others a chance to reap harvests and deliver fresh supplies without having to store them for months at a time,” Bannerman answers.
“Good point. Have whomever you select work those details out with Vince and the camps. For this coming year, the earlier we can do it, the better, as our supply of fuel will fail by summer. This brings me to another point. The committee established up north won’t do anything until we deliver a load of supplies as an act of faith,” I state.
“We have been gathering supplies since you radioed and have enough to fill the 130,” Bannerman comments. “According to Harold and the radar, we should have clear weather the day after tomorrow. If we’re just delivering and dropping off supplies, we only need one day to get there and back.”
“Okay, radio them and let them know. I’ll ask Craig and Roger to take the flight, along with two teams to provide an escort, if that won’t leave us too shy,” I respond.
“We should be okay in that regard for a day,” Lynn states, looking over to Bannerman, who nods. “I’m curious why you aren’t taking the flight, though.”
“We’re heading somewhere else. It’s not exactly a honeymoon, though. Harold sent us some information about small bands of survivors. There’s one down in northern California that we can track down. I figure that we’d take that on,” I say. “We’ll take a Black and Red Teams, along with a Stryker. Greg, you’ll be in charge while we’re gone. It should only be a day trip.”
Lynn gives me a smile at the news.
“About the rendezvous for the supplies, it should be centralized for all of the camps, have good access to rail lines, and be close to both fuel and supply storage. That kind of limits us. Do you have any place in mind?” Bannerman asks.
“I haven’t really had much of a chance to think about that, but Fort Carson wouldn’t be a bad choice. They have access to a vast network of rail systems, and storage for both fuel and supplies. It’s the closest that comes to mind south of Fort McMurray,” I reply.
“I’ll take a look at it,” Bannerman nods.
A moment of silence ensues.
“Well, I guess it’s my turn, then,” Frank says, setting a laptop on the table. “Now, before I show you a little video, I want everyone to keep in mind that we’ve only had three days or so to monitor our neighbors up north. With that said, from what I’ve seen so far, the night runners aren’t moving. By that, I mean their overall direction. They seem content to stay where they are for the moment. When their food supply runs low, one of two things will happen: Their numbers will decrease to achieve some sort of stabilization, or they will move to other hunting grounds. Some may remain behind, but my guess is that the hunting will not support their current numbers.”
“I’m with you so far. That’s why we are working on ways to push them east,” I comment.
Frank holds up a hand, and continues. “As I mentioned before, I tagged a few of the packs to look at their patterns. So far, they don’t have any that I can identify. When they leave their lairs, their direction seems random. Perhaps they smell prey in a certain direction, I don’t know. The packs, both medium and small, seem to return to the same lairs at the approach of dawn. Here’s the interesting thing, though. When they return, they are bringing things back.”
Frank turns the laptop around so that we can all see the monitor. He presses play and a short series of videos begin playing.
“There, you see,”
he says, pausing the video and pointing to a pack. “All of them appear to be carrying something.”
He fast-forwards to show the same group exit. “When they leave the next evening, they do so empty-handed.”
“What are they bringing back?” Greg asks.
“I have no idea. If I were to hazard a guess, they are storing whatever they are bringing in,” Frank responds.
He rewinds the video and freezes on an image of the night runners just outside of a building. Pressing a key, the picture zooms in. As we’re looking at an IR video, it’s hard to tell exactly what they have, but the figures on the screen are definitely carrying something. And each appears to be a different shape. The objects don’t give off much of a heat signature so it’s hard to tell exactly what they are.
“Could it be that they are gathering food, like from the hunt?” Lynn asks.
“That’s a possibility, but if that were true, we should be seeing residual heat signatures,” Frank replies.
“Okay, we’ve found them eating food from stores and such. Could it be that? Could they somehow be sensing the colder weather approaching and storing food? I know it sounds outlandish, but other animals do it,” I say.
“That’s what I was thinking and is the most likely answer. However, I think we’re missing the point here. The thing that worries me, and this is possibly the most important fact: They are all doing it. At least the ones I’ve been watching. I’ll enlarge the scope of my observations, but I’m pretty sure we’ll see the same thing.” Frank states.
“Well, like Jack said, other animals conduct this kind of activity, so why wouldn’t they? And, if it’s instinctual, it just makes sense that they’d all be doing it?” Greg comments.
“I may just be paranoid, but they’re also running around out in the rain and cold, barefoot for the most part, and in tattered clothing. All I’m saying is, if storing food was instinctual, then so would finding something warm and dry.”
“And you are seeing this across the board?”
“With every pack that I’ve tagged and watched. They are all doing this.”
“Let’s assume that Frank is right for a moment; that they aren’t acting on instinct. It’s obvious they are carrying something. That indicates a level of coordination that’s mind-boggling. If a half-million night runners, spread across miles of territory, are all doing the same thing, and it’s not something that is coming naturally, that doesn’t bode well. As a matter of fact, it scares the hell out of me,” I state.
“And let’s not forget the intelligence factor that would have to go into such an enterprise,” Greg comments.
“Is there any way we can get clearer images?” Lynn asks.
“It’s at night, but I’ll ask Harold. I’m sure we can rustle up more detailed images, if not video. I haven’t really seen a need for it before now. I only wanted to track movements,” Frank says.
“Okay, let’s see if we can observe what they are carrying. You haven’t found any larger groups than what we’ve seen?” I ask.
“No, you’ve been up there. The place is overrun by small and medium-sized packs,” Frank answers.
“I don’t know why, but the large one we spotted some time ago keeps tickling my mind. It worries me that we haven’t located it, or come across any sign of them since,” I say.
“They could have been an anomaly. I haven’t observed anything like that north of us, or anywhere else for that matter, ” Frank responds.
“That doesn’t make me any more comfortable,” I reply.
“Me either. There just hasn’t been any sign of a pack that large since we took down the ones at the hospital. It could be that they dispersed,” Franks comments.
“Watch for them. I just get an uneasy feeling, that’s all.”
“I’ll expand my search and continue to monitor,” Frank says.
“Okay, with all of that fun news, let’s talk about the thing I’ve been putting off for a few days. I’d like to bring up the possibility of us relocating to the bunker,” I say.
“What is there to discuss? I say we do it,” Greg comments.
“In light of what we’re seeing up north, and the potential, I’m afraid I have to agree with Greg,” Frank says.
I look around, wondering if I’m the only one who is having a problem with this. Yes, I had resolved a lot of my conflict about leaving, but still, I feel like I’m about to give up my child. However, perhaps it’s time we found a safer location. This place served its purpose well, but the constant stress caused by our night runner neighbors will eventually wear us all down. And the bunker is rather perfect and can accommodate all of us…and more.
Lynn is looking at me curiously. “Okay, let’s move along the lines that we’ll be moving. Let’s see what we’re looking at,” I say.
“I guess that would depend. Are we thinking of carting our supplies from here: The vehicles, food, ammo? Or would we just pick up and leave, gathering supplies there?” Bannerman asks.
“I think it would be a shame to leave everything here. I say we load what we can and transport it. The passes are still clear so that wouldn’t be a problem,” Frank answers. “But that’s just me.”
“We brought in quite a few extra containers, so we should have enough, I would think,” Bannerman says. “Frank and I have been looking closely at this for the past few days. The conditions there aren’t much different than here. There are Fort Carson and Petersen AFB where we could get fuel, vehicles, weapons, and ammo, much like we use Fort Lewis and McChord here. In some ways, it would basically be a restart, but many of the pieces are already in place. There are some areas where it’s give and take. For instance, the fields surrounding the bunker are prime for agriculture, but without the hunting and fishing opportunities that are afforded here, meaning we’d have to range farther for game. We’d never be able to match Puget Sound’s ample fishing, but we’d have grain in plenty.
“Let’s see, we’ll need to transport the horses and livestock as I have no idea what could be found there. It will be chillier in the winter, so we’ll need to account for that. With the cold coming on, stables and barns will have to be erected in short order. I’m sure that the corridor along the interstates that run through Denver have DCs along them. It would just be a matter of locating them and hope they haven’t already been scavenged. All in all, with everything considered, things balance out. We shouldn’t have any difficulties establishing long-term supplies.”
Bannerman nods to Frank and I can tell they rehearsed this to a degree.
“First of all, you missed that the facility will house us all, as is,” Frank says.
“That I did,” Bannerman replies.
I’m surprised that Bannerman didn’t lead off and end with that. He’s been pressing for better conditions since we began bringing people in. As a matter of fact, I’m astonished that wasn’t his only reasoning. Maybe it is and all of the other was just fluff.
“Like Bannerman mentioned, we have the base at Fort Carson to draw from, so we’re not lost with regards to ammo and armament availability. Although it took us some time and resources, we can begin setting up another wall construction if we so desire, provided the materials are available. The bunker is far away from any formerly populated areas, so the threat from night runners is decreased,” Frank begins.
I raise a hand to halt him momentarily. “You realize Denver is actually closer to the bunker than Seattle is to us.”
“Yes, but the difference is the direction of urban buildup. The urban areas radiating out from Seattle are directed straight at us. With Denver, the buildup heads north and south, not in the bunker’s direction at all,” Frank replies.
“And, with the bases, we’d have to clear out the areas that we’d want to use all over again,” I state.
“True, but the bases up north are becoming increasingly dangerous to venture into. It kind of amounts to the same thing.”
“Okay, sorry, continue,” I say.
“Well, that’s really ab
out it. We’d have some work ahead of us, but we have that now. There’s electrical, housing, water, and food in place. Basically, it seems to me, well, us,” Frank says, including Bannerman, “that it’s a safe place; especially with hundreds of thousands of night runners poised on our current doorstep.”
“All right, so, let’s talk about the logistics of the move. Like Frank mentioned, I’d like to bring what we can with us. It’s better to have than have not,” I comment.
“We’ll have to organize convoys of trucks, and they’ll have to be protected in the event they run into marauders. That will take away a large percentage of our teams, which will leave us a little short-handed here. I know that will make it more difficult, but I don’t see a way around that. If we are going to move, we’ll have to do it soon. We could supplement that with C-130 runs,” Bannerman says.
“How long do you see this taking?” Lynn asks.
Frank and Bannerman look at each other.
“I don’t think we could transport everything in one run. That would take more vehicles and personnel than we have. I figure it will take two runs at least. Seeing it would be a large convoy, I’m guessing each way to be about a three-day trip. Three days to get there, one day to unload, and three days to return. That means a week for each run.”
“So, all told, we’re looking at two weeks, even using the 130?” Lynn says.
“Plus one day to load up here, but that about sums it up,” Bannerman responds.
“Frank, regarding the night runners, do we have that kind of time? You said they don’t look like they’re moving, but that could change in a heartbeat,” I ask.
“I don’t know. Nothing indicates that they’re moving, or ready to do so, but we really don’t know for sure. I’m sure that taking out the bridges bought us some time. I think we still need to concentrate on pushing them east, just in case.”
“So, basically, we’re talking about using delaying tactics at this point. Hitting the southern and western areas to push them east and keep them away from us until we can complete the move,” I comment.
