Storm Tide Rising: Blackout Volume 2

by D W McAliley

  "I got the kid, swam back out to the cage, rolled us both into it, and started up. I had to ride with the kid because he was so young and exhausted, he could have been tipped out if our pilot had to make a sudden move due to the winds. I got about a third of the way up, heard this cracking sound, and looked back to the tree where the kids father had been. A car had torn a hole through the branches of the tree and was riding the current down the street half submerged. The kid's father was just gone."

  Mike was quiet for a moment, his eyes haunted by memories he hadn't brought out in a long time. "I couldn't bail out of the box half way up with the kid," he said, "and by the time we got him in the HELO, even the car was gone. We looked as long as we could, but our fuel was already on reserve, and we had to make it out of the flood zone still. As far as I know, they never did find that kid's dad. That was one of the worst. I still see that kid's face in my dreams sometimes. His eyes open as wide as they would go, breathing through his mouth, with tears running down both cheeks non-stop and not making a sound."

  Mike fell silent for a few steps and finally gave a shudder and shook his head. "I left the Coast Guard not long after the storm and the flooding cleared. A lot of guys left around then."

  Arthur didn't speak, but he had a new look in his eyes as he walked next to Mike, ready to lend a hand if needed. They made their way down the hall in silence and turned down the small side corridor they were using as a kind of makeshift sitting room. The hallways had better airflow than the offices and made for a faster retreat if they needed to move quickly.

  Arthur helped Mike ease his way down to the floor, and Alyssa was by his side in a few moments. Mike patted her leg affectionately, but he sat up on his own instead of leaning against the shoulder she offered.

  "What’s the absolute least amount of time you think I’ll need before I'm ready to travel hard?" Mike asked.

  Arthur frowned a bit and thought for a long time before answering. "Two weeks is still it. I guess maybe a little less, but not much. With gradual increases in resistance training could have you back to mobile in a few days. You won't be back to your peak fitness before you were bed-ridden, though. That's going to take some time, and probably more than just two weeks, to be honest. Your bones and joints aren't what's hurt, but your muscles and connective tissue have atrophied some. It's like when I would have a horse or cow laid up with a leg injury. The animal would have to gradually be reintroduced to walking and running and other activities. Push a muscle or a ligament too hard too early and it can tear, causing even more damage and a much longer healing time."

  Mike sighed softly. "That's longer than I was hoping," he admitted. "Will we have supplies for that long?"

  Alyssa patted his leg and smiled. "Don't worry about that part of it. We'll work it out somehow. You just focus on getting yourself strong again."

  "Two weeks it is, then," Mike said with finality. "What day will that be, anyway?"

  No one said anything for a long moment; then Cheryl spoke up. "The tenth of October," she said.

  Mike threw back his head and barked a short laugh. "That's the day before my birthday," he said in response to the confused faces looking back at him. "Heck of a birthday present. I may or may not be ready to start a journey, by foot, through God knows what, headed for a place none of us are really quite sure how to get to, looking for people who may or may not have gone there themselves."

  Mike leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling in the light of the battery powered lantern. He knew they couldn't stay put for a full two weeks. They'd been in one place far too long already. Their waste was starting to pile up in the back of the admin building. Alyssa and Maria had dug pits, but they could only hold so much.

  And they were running low on water. That would be the real issue before long. If they didn't find a new source of good, clean, bottled water to tap into, they wouldn't be able to stay much longer than a week. Mike had taken a brief count of their supplies the first night Arthur and Cheryl spent with them. Seven days, was the number he kept coming to. If they weren't moving by the end of that seven days, they were going to be in serious trouble.

  Mike closed his eyes as he tried to think of ways to get around the water issue, but soon his breathing was deep and regular, and he began to snore softly. Alyssa pulled his head over onto her shoulder and the snoring stopped. She knew the others were talking about important things, but she couldn't force herself to follow the conversation. She tuned the others out and instead focused on Mike's slow, deep breathing, and the warmth of his head on her shoulder.

  Before long, her eyes were closed too, and she drifted off to sleep with him.

  Ch.76

  Thanksgiving

  Joe climbed over the barbed wire fence and led the way across the pasture to where the others were gathered. He waited until Chris, Brant, Oscar, Justin, and Steven were all gathered around before speaking.

  "Okay, we're all going to go to the house together," Joe said once everyone was settled and quiet. "It's a risk leaving the herd like that, but it's only for a couple of hours. Mrs. Tillman will have some deer stew cooked up and ready, and I want you all to get some while it's hot. When we're done, I'll come out with the next shift."

  Chris climbed onto one of the horses with Steven, and they rode back to spread the word that they'd be eating soon. The rest of them walked down the road as quietly as possible. Most of the houses they passed now were empty. The windows were dark and had been for a long time. Eric shuddered to think what might be behind some of those doors and windows.

  Conversation was kept to a minimum while they walked. Oscar and Justin took the lead while Brant and Eric followed in the back, keeping an eye for anyone following them. Joe walked with Cage in between the two groups, his eyes constantly scanning the woods and the houses along the road as they walked.

  "So how did you know Eric was my son," Joe asked quietly after a moment.

  Cage grunted. "Anyone looks at the two of you for more than a few seconds could see that. He's got your shoulders, your walk, your face. Most of all, though, it's the eyes."

  "And you saw all of that from your spot hiding in the bushes?" Joe asked. "That's pretty impressive."

  "I always did have good eyes," Cage said simply.

  Joe nodded and fell silent again. He still wasn't quite sure what to make of the new comer. There was something strangely compelling about the man, though. He was quiet, soft-spoken to the point of being nearly submissive, but there was also an incredible strength about him as well. The thing that really struck Joe, though, was the fact that there didn't seem to be a single dishonest or dissembling bone in the man's body. Joe had spent years training in interrogation and counter intelligence, and part of that training had involved learning how to spot lies and evasions, but he'd seen none so far about Cage.

  The sun was low in the western sky when the group made the turn on to Cutler's Run. Tom stepped out of the brush at the intersection and waived as they passed.

  "Come on, Tom," Joe called. "You need to be there too."

  But Tom shook his head even as a hard bout of coughing shook his body. "We need someone to stay out here and at least keep their eyes out, Captain," he said. "You can bring me a bowl of stew back and I'll eat it, but we need someone here as lookout."

  Joe reluctantly agreed and left Tom as he was making his way back into the brush and trees to keep an eye out for intruders. Tom’s cough was getting worse, and he looked a little pale in the face, but Joe was short on man power at the moment, and they did need a pair of eyes watching the intersection. As they walked down the road, a few of the families were coming out to make their way down to the homestead as well. They waved and smiled but kept to their own little groups for the most part.

  When they got to the farmhouse, Cage stopped at the bottom of the front steps. "I don't know I should go in, Captain," he said. Like I told you before, I ain't much one for being inside anymore."

  "That's fine, Mr. Cage," Joe answer
ed. "You can have a seat right out here and I'll bring you a bowl if you're hungry. We're going to say the blessing first, though, and I thought you might want to be inside for it."

  Cage hesitated for a moment but finally nodded. "Okay, but once you say the blessing, I'll come back outside and eat."

  "Whatever you like," Joe said, holding the door open for the broad-shouldered man to step through.

  Once they were inside, Beth raised a questioning eyebrow, but Joe raised a hand and she shrugged. He'd have time to tell her about Cage later, but for now it was enough to get him in the door. He needed to be around people and remember that he wasn't alone in the world. Somehow Joe felt that was very important at the moment.

  As soon as Cage was through the door, some of the younger children began running behind him and playing an impromptu game of hide and seek. For his part, Cage chuckled a deep chuckle and smiled at the children, playing along with them. Joe walked over to Beth while he had a moment, kissed her cheek, and whispered that he'd explain later when they had a chance to talk.

  Beth nodded and rubbed his back with a warm smile.

  Within a few moments, the farmhouse was nearly full. Joe looked around at the people and silence fell slowly. As so often happened, without his asking for it, the spotlight had been thrust on him.

  "I look around and I see all of these faces of friends and family," Joe began, "and I'm reminded of just how much we have to be thankful for. Every time we are able to come together like this, to share a meal and break bread with each other, it's a reason to be thankful. Every time we have a bite to eat or a drink of clear, clean water, it's a chance to be thankful. Every time we wake up for another day in this world, it's a cause to give thanks."

  "I always enjoyed Thanksgiving when I was a kid," Joe continued. "We got to see family from all over that we never got to see on a regular basis, which was good, but it was the food that got me most. Turkey, stuffing, biscuits, sweet potatoes, cakes, brownies, every kind of good food you can imagine. We had all kinds of food and ten times what we could eat."

  Most of the people were nodding and smiling at the shared memories of past holidays. "But looking back on it now," Joe said after a moment, "I wish I'd paid more attention to the people around the table than I did to the food that was on it. A lot of those people aren't around anymore, and that's a lost opportunity I'll never get back."

  "So, I say we have a Thanksgiving every time we come together," Joe said. "Every time we sit down to share a meal, even if it's just a sandwich and a glass of water, I say we give special thanks for the opportunity and for the blessing. Thanksgiving can't be a day in November anymore, not for us. We've been through too much. For us, it's got to be how we live our lives."

  "If we could bow our heads, please," Joe said, and every head bowed with him. "Lord, we give you thanks for the breath we breathe. We give you thanks for the friends and family we have standing around us today. We thank you for every blessing in our lives and that we can call on you today and do so with love and joy. So much in this world is broken, Lord, and so much is hurting and dying and in need of healing. Yet here we stand, together, provided for and safe. We know that is your doing more than it is ours, Lord, and we thank you for it. Help us to live each day to your service and to each other's. Thy will, not ours, Lord. In Jesus' name, Amen."

  Beth cleared her throat and wiped a tear from the corner of one eye. "Well, folks, we got three big pots of deer stew, biscuits, some late fried squash, stewed tomatoes and peppers, and turnip greens. Dig in and take all you want, but eat all you take."

  Cage started to turn toward the door, but the kids began pulling on his pants legs, each one asking for him to sit with them. They finally reached a compromise of sitting in a circle with Cage in the family room on the floor while they all ate. Cage looked pleadingly at Joe for help, but Joe just smiled and shrugged.

  "You don't want to upset the kids, do you?" he asked with a small grin.

  Joe watched as his family, friends, and neighbors moved one by one through the line, taking a little stew, some vegetables, and a biscuit, all the while making sure to leave enough for those coming behind them. He felt the overwhelming weight of responsibility for these people who looked to him for order and safety. He'd taken them under his wing and promised to provide that safety and security when they needed it, and now that obligation was pressing on him.

  Beth leaned over and kissed him soundly, forcing his eyes to find hers. "Whatever you're worried about," she said, patting his cheek with one hand, "let it go. You're not going to solve it or fix it right now, tonight, at the dinner table. Think about what you just told these people and pick up your head. Pay attention to the people, not the problems."

  Joe nodded and kissed her back. He let Beth lead him around to the back of the line and they waited their turn to fill their plates.

  Ch.77

  Unlocking the Door

  Commander Price sat at his desk, waiting, the cursor on his screen blinking at him. The program was complete, finally, and all he had to do was press the Enter key to compile the code and download it onto the secure network interface card. Once it was done, though, it could not be removed. He'd written the code so that once inside the backdoor that Terry had left open during system development, it would permanently delete that access path and close the breach for good. This was a one-way street, and once he started down it, not even Terry would be able to stop it.

  The Commander closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pressed the key. When he opened his eyes again, there was a status bar on the screen that displayed the progress of the program encryption process. He watched as the status bar slowly ticked up a percent at the time. The program was being encrypted and written directly onto the onboard memory of the interface card. It would automatically install on the home system and be transmitted with the initial handshake request over the network. The other terminals wouldn't have a choice, they were hardwired to accept and integrate that initial message and they would take the hidden program along with the rest of the initial connection parameters.

  The other three systems, unlike this one, all had a fiber optic connection going from the database backup banks to the secure network terminal, allowing for remote access by the home system. This was one of the failsafe measures to ensure data accuracy. The other three backups could be checked independently via the standalone DOD controlled facility.

  It only took a few moments for the program to compile and encrypt. It was incredibly complex, but it was also elegant and condensed. It would encrypt the system of each backup center databank to its own unique, randomly chosen sequence of two point six million characters. The keys were stored on the primary facility's data backups as unnamed and encrypted files buried beneath multiple firewalls and isolation programs. The process of hiding the keys had been much more time consuming and elaborate than devising the code for the encryption. But, such was the way of locks. It's always more difficult to hide the key than it is to lock the door.

  Commander Price disconnected the interface card and held it gingerly in his hands. It was slightly warm, but given what was inscribed in the ephemeral ones and zeroes, he would have expected it to burn his hands.

  Once this virus was downloaded into the system, it couldn't be scrubbed. It was designed to rewrite key parts of the registry files to link to bits of its own coding, essentially becoming part of the host computer's identity. If a programmer tried to erase the one, it would erase the other as well. The data storage units and their operating systems would be the only systems affected, though. The communications terminals themselves would still function and talk back and forth, if the other side so chose. Once he exposed their weakness, though, Commander Price didn't expect them to keep the lines open.

  The Commander turned to the guards at the back of his office. "I'm going to step out for a bit," he said. "Anyone tries to come in here that's not me, you shoot them."

  The two men nodded as one. "Yes sir," they said.

  Comman
der Price stepped out into the antechamber to his office and nodded to Marcus and the Chief. "We're going for a walk, Chief," he said. "You keep an eye on things for me."

  The Chief nodded. "Yes sir," he replied and turned to put his back to the Commander's open office door. "We'll keep it locked down, sir."

  The halls were empty except for random security personnel. The workday was barely more than halfway through, so the one remaining work shift were all currently at their stations. They walked through the angled hallways, always headed farther down into the heart of the facility. They took turns Marcus had never seen before and went down two staircases hidden in the back of small, nondescript closets with simple locked doors.

  For a time, the Commander walked a few paces ahead of Marcus, neither man speaking. Things had been strained between them the past few months, and it had eroded the closeness they both had once enjoyed. The Commander had expected that, though. It was one of the burdens of command.

  As they made their way through the lowest halls and corridors, Marcus' curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't contain it any more. "Commander, where are we going? I didn't even know levels this low existed. We're below the containment cells now, right?"

  Commander Price slowed enough for Marcus to catch up to him and nodded. "Those two locked and hidden stairways don't exist on any of the drawings of this facility," Commander Price answered. "Not even the original blueprints. In fact, everything after the first hidden staircase is on a different set of engineering diagrams altogether. This is technically a different facility."

  "What do you mean, a different facility?" Marcus asked, confused.

  "What's up top is just the icing," Commander Price said, "This is the cake."

  They rounded a bend in the hallway and came face to face with a pair of heavy metal doors. Commander Price stepped over to a keypad set in the wall to the right of the door. He swiped his security card and keyed in his nine-digit access code. There was a series of thumps as the locks disengaged, and a hiss as the doors slid open on hydraulic hinges.