Romance in a Ghost Town

by Robert P McAuley

  Well, she figured, whatever I’m going to do it has to be fast before they get this surveillance thing down pat. She went to her room and quickly dressed in jeans, deerskin shirt, boots and western style hat. She grabbed a flashlight, checked it and dropped it into her backpack along with two eight-ounce bottles of water and a breakfast, fast-food granola bar. Taking the hat off she casually reentered the living room, put the television on and sat in the easy chair facing the TV with it’s back to the window. Anne next took the pillow resting on the chair’s arm and put it behind her head. She then slowly slipped down in the chair letting the pillow take the place of her head as she slid along the floor, grabbed her backpack and hat and crawled into the kitchen. She checked out the rear windows and not seeing any police or army troopers, went out the kitchen door and went across her backyard to the house across the way and exited onto the next street. She glanced back just as a Humvee with troopers in it pulled up behind the house. They were facing the rear of her house and seemed content to just sit and watch the kitchen door.

  Hope that pillow makes those cops think that I’m a TV freak, she thought as she tapped on her neighbor’s door. An elderly woman opened the door and seeing Anne, smiled and said, “Anne! Why it’s so good to see you. Come on in, dear, and sit with me.”

  Anne hugged the woman and said, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Austin, but I have an emergency and need to borrow Brenda’s car.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s no problem. Brenda won’t be home until after five o’clock.” She furrowed her eyebrows and went on; “How come you’re not at the office?” she giggled and added, “Are you playing hooky?”

  Anne grinned back and with a nod said, “Sort of, but my car’s battery died and I need to do a shop. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  The gray haired, elderly woman took a set of car keys from off the mantel and said as she placed them in Anne’s palm, “Good for you, dear. Have fun while you’re young. Now, scoot along.”

  Anne went to their garage, opened the door and started the five-year old Jeep Wrangler up. Tank’s almost full, she happily thought as she put it in gear, eased it out of the driveway and down the street towards the highway. She turned and entered Center Street and saw a line of brown, tan and sandy colored Army trucks slowly driving towards the Army National Guard Armory at the end of town. Looking in her rearview mirror, she saw that they were empty.

  That’s the good news, she thought. I remember now that the Guard has maneuvers starting Christmas Eve and it looks like they haven’t pushed the date up, but you never know. It was four-thirty as she stepped on the gas being careful to not exceed the speed limit.

  Anne easily found the spot on Route 95 that allowed her to leave the highway and gently eased the Jeep down onto the flat, hard surface. She put it in four-wheel drive and, using the SUV’s compass, headed west.

  The ride to Rattlesnake Haven took her five hours of slow, arduous driving as the moonlight made every plant, stone and tumbleweed cast a shadow, and she never knew if it was just a shadow or a deep crevice she was approaching until her headlights pierced the darkness.

  Anne cried as the old signpost suddenly appeared out of the night, as she now knew where she was. Three-quarters of an hour later, she parked the Jeep next to Bob’s on Main Street and almost collapsed from fatigue as she killed the ignition. Using her flashlight, she walked to Bob’s house in the dark and suddenly felt at home as the soft yellow glow of the oil lamps spilled out the windows. She rapped on the door and heard a sniffing sound as Samson scratched at the door in recognition and a moment later Bob opened it. They stared at one another for a moment and then embraced as the pup circled them trying to get attention.

  “Anne! What a surprise!” he said as he held her tight. “I thought you went to…“ Suddenly realizing that she was more limp than alive, he held her at arm’s length and said, “Honey, what’s wrong? Come in and sit down.” He turned and said over his shoulder, “Jean, it’s Anne and I think she’s sick.”

  “Lord,” said the woman as she took an arm and they guided Anne towards the chair facing the fireplace. “Cal,” shouted Jean as they sat her down, “Bring Anne a hot cup of tea. She’s about tuckered out.” She patted her hand and went on in a soft tone of voice, “Heavens, child, what happened?”

  Anne tried to talk but her tongue was not responding. Cal brought the cup of tea over and Jean offered it to her. Anne took a sip at first than finished the drink in a few gulps. Jean took the cup as Anne said, “Trouble…we have trouble coming.”

  “Trouble?” asked Bob kneeling next to her chair, “What sort of trouble?”

  She looked at them and her eyes drifted off to sleep.

  “Anne…” said Bob as he reached out to her.

  “No, son,” said Jean as she felt Anne’s pulse, “the poor child just needs some sleep ta fix her up. We’ll just have ta wait till she comes around.”

  It was after midnight when Anne stirred and opened her eyes. She looked around and shook her head, as she knew that tonight the answers to their questions would have to be answered.

  “More tea, honey?” asked Jean as Cal passed her another cup. Anne nodded and drank half of the cup before trying to stand.

  “Stay seated, child,” said Jean, “no need ta stand.”

  “I think we should all sit,” said Anne, “and talk about what they’re saying back in Bransville.”

  Colonel Mike Eklund fixed his night vision goggles as the army H-60 helicopter swooped over the small town and went into a hover over the old silver mine. It was dark and he figured that there would be nobody in the mine at that time so if the downwash of the powerful rotors caused a collapse in the tunnel, nobody would get hurt. This was the second time they had used the Mine Detection System over the mine.

  “Activating the MDS now, Colonel,” came the voice of the co-pilot through his earphones and Eklund nodded as he said, “Very well, lieutenant, activate.”

  The Mine Detection System, or MDS in military jargon, was silent and as it was strictly an electronic device, there was no telltale beam emanating from it as the rays penetrated the ground. It could penetrate deep into the hard-packed earth and the first two passes showed the mine as a discoloration in the shape of the wandering tunnel. This time the colonel tried to see if miners had extended the tunnel since the last reading this morning. Although it looked the same to him, he knew that the trained technicians back at the base would be able to tell if there was movement between the first scans and this one. The night vision goggles were slightly cumbersome and more than once he hit his head against the inside of the copter. Lucky I’m wearing this helmet, he thought as he looked around. He could have stayed back at the base and let another officer take this flight, But, he thought, if this story is as it seems to be, I want the citizens of Nevada to know that their governor was in on it right from the start, even flying low and slow over potential enemy forces.

  Scanning complete, the pilot banked the helicopter and flew low over the town once again as the colonel had ordered.

  Sure looks peaceable down there, he thought as he adjusted his goggles that allowed him to see in the darkest of night. Eklund pressed his throat mic and said, “Captain, would you swing around for another pass and this time come to a crawl and take photos of the town.”

  “Roger, sir,” came the answer as the copter swung around once again and slowed as they flew over the town of Rattlesnake Haven shooting infrared pictures of every square inch. Finished, they flew back and landed at the Bransville Army Air Station. Colonel Eklund exited the aircraft as the props were still turning and said to the two technicians who were removing the data discs from the mission, “Call me as soon as those scans and pictures are ready, boys.”

  “Yessir,” came the answer as the two troopers trotted to the Photographic/Reconnaissance Data Division, or PRD2, with the discs. The colonel knew that the troopers in PRD2 would work all night to get the information he wanted. That will give me enough time to get home and fix the tree wit
h Mildred and the kids, he thought as he entered the Administration Building where most of the planning of Operation Snowball had taken place. He momentarily felt bad that the troopers had to work through Christmas, but although he was overall commander, it was Colonel Meyers who set the dates for these exercises. He took the marble stairs two at a time as he headed to his office. Seeing the door to Colonel Meyer’s office open he stuck his head in.

  “Hi Berni,” he said, “Give Captain Sweeny a pat on the back for his outstanding flying tonight. Just a tiny bit of moonlight, and he just eased us in and out like we were on a slide.”

  “Roger that, Mike,” answered Colonel Berni Meyers, who looked every inch the army colonel he was. Slim, with a deep tan and gray hair that popped out of the top of his head with close shaved sides and a pencil thin mustache. He knew that the governor outranked him during a crises but he also knew that the governor would always defer to him when it came to military matters…and he liked the big man for that. He pulled a loose thread from his starched shirt as he asked, “Mike, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure, Berni, what’s up?” answered the governor as he stepped into the office.

  “I know that Operation Snowball was scheduled for this week and am only too glad that the ‘crises’ that brings you into the unit happened when we were due to be on active duty, as it keeps our budget down rather than having an extra exercise.”

  “But?” asked the governor with raised eyebrows.

  “But,” answered Colonel Meyers looking at a clipboard of typed orders, “are we correct in saying that going into this old ghost town is legal?” he shrugged his wide shoulders and went on, “I mean, it is an owned property and registered in the state of Nevada. Right?”

  Eklund frowned over the same thoughts that he had entertained earlier. “Yes and no, Berni. Yes, it’s registered in the state of Nevada and no, it’s not legal to just go on in and take it over…unless there are other elements at work there that threaten the state of Nevada. And that’s one of the reasons that I decided to use Operation Snowball as a cover of sorts to see if that is happening. If, as reported by others, they are dealing in counterfeiting and laundering money by way of Bransville and selling us silver that really belongs to Nevada, it’s up to me to investigate it in any way I see fit. And, as you so rightly pointed out, we aren’t using more of the training budget than we need. Sort of two for one: your troops get the training exercise you ordered while I investigate any possible wrong doings within my jurisdiction.”

  “Please understand me, colonel,” said Meyers, “I’m not questioning your judgment. I back you one hundred percent, as I always have, sir.”

  The governor gave a heartfelt smile as he said, “Believe me, Berni, I know that. And I truly hope that all’s on the up-and-up out there and that’s why I need those ground scans. They’ll tell me if that mine has been expanded into state property.”

  “I’ll call you personally when they’re ready, Mike. Why not go home and get some sleep.”

  “Okay, Berni. But no need to call tonight, Ill be ready to fly in tomorrow so you can call me then.”

  Footfalls behind him made Eklund turn to see a young private with an envelope in his hand.

  “Sir,” he said as he handed him the envelope, “The photos of the town.”

  A surprised Eklund asked as he took them, “They’re ready so fast?”

  “Yes sir, infrared photos are developed in the copter’s camera-bay even before she lands. We just needed to print them out.”

  Berni interjected, “Speeds up the process of seeing the pictures almost in ‘real-time’. Too bad the radar images you want take longer.”

  “Great. Copter is waiting, gotta run. See ya then, partner,” said the governor as he ran out and into his office, grabbed some paperwork and ran to the waiting helicopter.

  Berni watched out the windows facing the runway as his boss ran to the helicopter, enter and close the door. The rotors increased their speed and the copter lifted off for the Carson City Army National Guard Air Station.

  The two couples sat in a semi-circle facing the fireplace as Anne told them all that had happened. When she finished she looked at Bob and said, “Bob and I have some questions too.”

  Bob’s hands were held in a tight clasp, which told Cal and Jean that he was wrestling with his questions as he said, “Cal, Jean, we don’t mean to be disrespectful, but some of what you’ve said just doesn’t jive and there are too many coincidences that need addressing.” He noticed that Cal glanced at his wife and they both nodded to each other as he went on. “I have so many questions to ask you both. For instance: how your tour group just happened to arrive in Rattlesnake Haven when the advertisements hadn’t even been sent out yet? How the townsfolk just slide so easily into a business that has been closed for over one hundred years?”

  “And,” added Anne, “how they all have the same name as their store front?”

  “Right,” quipped Bob as he went on, “And maybe the scariest thing is how the tombstones in the cemetery have many of their names on them?”

  Suddenly there was the sound of the rotor slap of a helicopter as it swooped overhead and as they all automatically ducked. Anne said, “That has to be an army helicopter. Tell me; has there been any other fly-over’s recently?”

  “Yep!” nodded Cal. This is the second one. There was one, early morning and you’re right about it being army, cause I saw it myself.”

  “It hovers over the old mine,” added Jean.

  Anne looked down at her knuckles, still hurting from gripping the steering wheel for so long, “I don’t know why they think that we’re living here illegally or that we’re laundering money…?“

  “Or,” added Bob, “that we’re terrorists?” He looked at Cal, then at his wife and went on, “And as for identification papers and such, I’m sure you and the rest of the tour group have those things, right?”

  “And are citizens,” added Anne.

  Cal looked at Jean who put her hand on his and asked, “Cal, how long do ya think we have?”

  “Well,” answered the sheriff as he tugged on his mustache, “knowing how the army works, I’d say twenty-four hours.”

  His wife sighed and nodded as she said, “Not much time, but we can do it.”

  “Do what?” asked Bob looking at them.

  Cal looked away and gazed into the fire as he said in a low voice, “Leave.”

  “What?” said Bob grabbing his cane and wobbly standing, “Leave? But why? You guys didn’t do anything wrong.” I’m sure that if the army comes into our town they’ll straighten up this whole mess.” He looked at Cal and asked, “I mean, you all are citizens, right?”

  The conversation stopped as the helicopter returned and this time glided slowly over the town and then suddenly accelerated away.

  As the sounds of the copter receded, Cal turned to Bob and answered his question with a firm nod, “To answer your question, partner: yes, we’re all citizens, partner. That I promise you is true.”

  “But,” asked Anne, “what about all of those other coincidences?”

  Jean smiled at her fretting husband who now stood and paced the small area in front of the fireplace, “Calvin Sullivan, you know down deep in your heart that these young one’s can handle the answers to their questions, so why don’t ya just sit down and rest their fears.”

  Cal looked at Jean and a smile came across his face as he sat and, with a sigh said, “Ya know what, Jean? You’re right on the money about these two.” He nodded as he assessed Bob and Anne now sitting together on the couch facing them. “Partners, hold onto yer hats cause I got a wing-ding of a story ta tell ya both.”

  “We’re all ears, “said Anne as she held Bob’s arm.

  “First off,” said Cal, “I’d like ta tell ya a story.” He sat forward and looked in both of their eyes as he went on, “I only ask that ya hear us out and try ta believe what yer hearin’. Okay?”

  Both of their nods told Cal they would hear him o
ut and he went on.

  “One of yer questions was: are we all citizens? The answer is, yes! We are all citizens of the United States of America and yes, most of us have a driver’s license and are married and plenty have served in the military. So, ya might ask, then how come we don’t show up on the many agencies’ data screens? Well, the simple answer to these questions is that we were married, got our driver’s licenses, went into the military…in your future.”

  Anne and Bob both said at the same time, “In our future?”

  “Shhh,” said Jean smiling softly, “Just hear Cal out and you’ll see what brought us here to Rattlesnake Haven.”

  “When I say, your future,” continued Cal, “I mean we came here from the year 2090.” Seeing the perplexed looks on their faces, Cal said, “Stay with me, partners, an’ you’ll see how this all came to be. Now, let’s suppose that my mom and dad loved the early west and as it was their hobby to visit Wild West reality vacation spots, when a tour company started to offer trips back in time to various western sites, they hopped on it right away. They visited a few of the early western towns and as they knew all about the styles and customs, they fit right in. There weren’t too many of them on the first trips back, but soon the group multiplied and started to make sure that their vacations were all planned for the same time in order to travel back together to the same destination.”