by E. C. Marsh
“Excuse me?” He bent closer to me.
“There have been no bugs, no noises from bugs.”
He stared at me. Finally he asked, “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I'm fine. I just thought I'd tell you that there haven't been any bugs around.”
“But you just said that there are mosquitoes.”
“Yes, but I'm talking about the big stuff that makes noise.”
He laughed. “So what's the problem?”
“It's bugging me.” We cracked up laughing.
“It's been bugging me for a while now that I didn't see any wildlife. No little turtles, no fish, no frogs no squirrels and no dragonflies. And the trees! Remember I said something to you earlier?”
He nodded, looking serious again.
“I told you there was something really strange about the vegetation. Look around us. Its August, but all of this looks like October, you know, fall. The grass is not only tall, it's also old. The trees, the bushes -- hell anything with leaves on it -- looks like it's fall right now and it's still summer! Look at it, the leaves are starting to turn color. But its the insects, that bother me the most. When you get away from the river, you can find lots of dead bugs. Its really gross, they crunch when you walk on them.”
I made a face and took a sip from my hot tea.
“Honey, I don't know what has happened to us or around us, but something has. I've thought about this a lot. Our nation wasn't on the brink of nuclear war when we left for this trip, was it? 'Cause that thought has occurred to me.”
Tom laughed and hugged me. “You've been reading too much science fiction.” His hand massaged my upper back. It felt good, and I was overwhelmed with the urge to be alone with him in bed and just crawl under the covers and hide in his arms. Just be close to him, inhale his scent, and feel safe.
“Whats funny?”
Sam sat down next to Tom, coffee mug in hand. I quickly wiped away a tear that had appeared from nowhere.
“Sam, my friend, what do you think of this fine mess we have gotten ourselves into?”
“You know, I've been thinking. I believe we need to rethink our strategy. With the low water, there are more obstacles to deal with than I even remotely considered. Ralph is pretty much out of circulation, and I doubt that Sandy can handle the canoe with him lying in the front. We can't walk out, because Ralph cannot walk, and we can't stay here. I really don't like the idea of sitting here and waiting for someone to pick us up. This is not a well-traveled river, and your local conservation agent is not going to come by everyday to see if there are any stranded tourists. The army would probably just as soon let us die. After all, those are the assholes who shot at us.”
He drank some more coffee and unfolded the map in front of us.
“Now, lets look at the map.” I looked over to Ralph and Sandy. He had his eyes closed and seemed to be sleeping. Actually, he looked pretty comfortable. She had found a nice sandy area and patiently removed any protruding objects. His head was propped against a couple of soggy sleeping bags.
Chapter 19
It was well after dark, when a tired, dirty and angry Ken Messer reconnected with Jeff Craft and David Smith. They arrived at almost the same time. Craft and Smith all crisp and clean, in stark contrast to Messer who was sweaty, wet and dirty from wading in the river.
“Well, don't stare at me. I'm not planning to pose for the cover of GQ. How come nothing is packed up? I thought we were clearing out?”
“Jonathon said no. He wants us to stay and find out who these people are and why they are on the river, and what they know about AMAG.”
“Aw, come on! He's joking isn't he? It's dark out there and whoever it is, they are probably long gone and in their little homes. This is getting way out of hand. Let me tell you something, if Research and Planning had done their part correctly, we wouldn't be in the mess we are in now. What were they thinking? This is a rural area. People fish here to supplement their food dollars, and they hunt whatever is in season and they hunt stuff that doesn't have a season.
“I've had it with this fucked up mess, somebody else can go out there and be the smorgasbord for the local bugs. I'm filthy, tired and I smell bad! And let me tell you fine, well-educated young gents something else: The targeting was fucked up, just as I said all along. How do I know? I've been all over this wilderness we've decided to use. Really nice corn we have growing in our test field! The field particle resonance meters show zero, great big fat zero, nothing! Nothing happened! The IMPB never hit the test field. I checked meters all along the field perimeter and I checked the safety zone. Nothing happened.
“Something went wrong, Boys! I've been telling you airheads for a long time, when we are dealing with cellular restructuring at this particular frequency, we need to make allowances for distance, gravity and atmospheric conditions. This is not something you can do in the lab on a Saturday afternoon. You have to sit down and use your brains, and work at it. What the hell does Jonathon want to do now? Sit here and wait until some farmer in Timbuktu reports a bumper crop of hashish? Please!”
Disgusted he turned away from them and stared out the window.
Smith cleared his throat. “I want you to know, I headed Research and Planning for this project. We were very thorough. We used all sorts of databases and came up with the same thing every time. This is a very sparsely populated area in a state with a small population for it's size to start with. The military recognized that, and subsequently moved their research and development centers to Camp Crowder.”
“But that's my point precisely. You used assorted databases and reached conclusions that were purely theoretical. None of you clowns has any experience beyond punching keys on a keyboard. Did any of you masterminds come here and talk to the locals? Did anyone call me? I will give you the answer: 'No.' I submitted my report to Jonathon, but I guess I reported something he did not want to hear and so he did not share it.”
“Well, in a way he did share it.” Dave Smith looked uncomfortable. “He showed it to me and after some discussion we decided that you were just being overly-cautious. No, we did not actually go onsite in person. You know Jonathon had his plans for that. We just found a potential location and informed him, and he handled it personally from then on. We had nothing further to do with that, so don't blame us!”
“Christ, I don't blame anybody! That never solved anything. We need to find these people and make sure they are okay. We need to find out if AMAG misfired or if a totally different area was targeted. We need to find out what went wrong. I can think of all sorts of possibilities, none of which includes placing blame! We need to take fast corrective action.”
Everyone looked at Jeff Craft. “Don't look at me! I have no idea where to start.”
“I have a couple of thoughts,” Smith said. “The main programming that directed the IMPB is set up to keep a log. That would tell us not only if an IMPB was generated, but also if AMAG fired it and when. It also will tell us the satellite's attitude and exact location in relation to our test site and the targeting coordinates used. That would give us a pretty good idea. Oh, not only would we see the programmed coordinates, but also the executed target coordinates. And it also does a diagnostic in the particle emitter and the transducers.”
They stood and stared at him. He tapped a young male technician on the shoulder, “ Joe, take the rest of your shift off.”
After Joe left the room, Smith sat down at the computer console. He pulled out a thick, well-worn day planner and started to punch in command after command. Slowly the screen filled with numbers, letters and symbols.
“Ok,” he finally said. “If I've done everything right, we will have the answer now.” He tapped on several keys and the screen changed.
“Wow! We are way off,” he said. “The area hit by AMAG is miles from the programmed target area. Look at this, it's off the base, over the river. If you use the river as a landmark, then we treated an area at least five to eight miles upriver. And do I read this right?”
he asked nobody in particular. “AMAG generated and fired the IMPB, on time, only at the wrong area and at a much larger area.
“Wow!”
“We need to develop a plan,” Craft put in. “We cannot approach Jonathon without a plan. You know how he is”
“I want to inspect the area we actually treated,” Messer urged. “There have to be changes by now. Dave, did you do any research on that area? What do you know about it?”
“Just a sec.” David Smith entered a new command and pulled up a report “Look at this: Mostly agricultural; cornfields, cattle, that sort of thing. No farmhouses, no towns, no nothing. Also no highways, just some gravel roads connecting the fields.”
“I still want to go there.” Ken Messer was restless. “Jeff, set up the helicopter for me at first light. I'll fly over and film the area. Then we'll regroup here and see what we are fighting. We can contact Jonathon then.”
Chapter 20
I signaled Sandy to come over and join us.
“What's up?” she asked when she sat down next to us.
“We're trying to figure what we're going to do next.”
“Can I help?”
Tough times really do bring out the best in people, I thought. We gathered around the map and listened as Sam talked.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. This river really meanders. If you were to stretch it out it would reach clear across the state. But because it winds so much, it covers only a very small portion of that distance. Because it winds through the valleys, the road is actually pretty close to where we are now. We need to determine exactly where we are in relationship to the highway and then lets talk about maybe walking out of here. It would mean leaving our stuff here. But we could always come back later and get it.” He looked at us.
“Ralph can't walk,” I said. “And what about Marty?”
“We could split up.”
I couldn't believe that Tom would even suggest such a thing. No way would I split up. We sat a moment in silence.
“Well?” Tom looked around at us. “If we all try to walk out together we could get into worse trouble than what we already have. Ralph isn't walking, that means that we,” he pointed at Sam and himself, “would have to carry him or drag him. We can't leave Marty behind. We need to get her out, and someone needs to figure out what killed her. Sandy and Chris can't carry her. We need help. And if we stay together on the river it will be Godknows how late tomorrow before we reach our takeout point. From there to the nearest phone will still be quite a distance. And that's assuming nothing has happened to the vehicles.” He paused and looked at us.
“No, I think we need to split up. One group keeps going as fast as it can on the river, the other group goes overland to the blacktop. There's bound to be a farmer going by. Tomorrow is Monday, there has got to be traffic.”
I didn't like his idea, but I had to admit it made sense. Sam agreed to that much.
“I just don't like the idea of splitting up,” he said. “How would we do that? Keep Ralph and Marty with the canoes while one walks out? That's awfully risky.”
We fell silent. None of us liked the idea of splitting up, but it did make sense. Sandy finally broke the silence.
“Okay, okay I have the answer.” She whispered, “Ralph, Marty, Tom and I stay with the canoes. We use one canoe, leave everything else behind and make our way down river starting at the break of dawn. Sam and Chris leave on foot just as soon as possible. Sam, you grew up around here and you're a conservation agent, you should be able to find your way even in the dark. Besides, I figure that once you are out of this valley and your eyes have adjusted it won't be all that dark.
“You guys hitch a ride with the first farmer that crosses your path, and we all meet at the takeout. If you get there first, I have a fifth of Vodka under the passenger seat, leave it alone.”
Sam shook his head. “No, no, no, I don't think this will work at all. You can't fit that many adults into one canoe and still maneuver it safely. And as low as the river is, Tom will have to get around an awful lot of obstacles. Sandy, even with you in front and paddling, this is not going to work.”
“Yes, it will. We can make it work,” Tom said slowly. “We can put Marty into one canoe and secure her. Then attach the two canoes like a catamaran. Sandy, Ralph and I will sit in the other canoe. It will be awkward, but Sandy will have room to move and it will certainly be more comfortable for Ralph. I think we can do it. You and Chris walk out to the road and get help, and we meet up at the take out.”
But Sam just shook his head again. “No that won't work either, we tried something like that once. Maybe in a more normal environment, but in this river full of obstacles you won't be able to maneuver around. Sandy can handle a canoe okay, but we need to balance it right for her.”
From the look in his face I could tell that his mind was made up. Suddenly I felt very angry.
“What do you mean walk out?” I shouted.
The others “shushed” and pointed to Ralph.
“What do you mean, walk out?” I lowered my voice. “We have no dry clothes, our shoes are just basic, cheapo canvas shoes and we are tired. I have never hiked, let alone in the dark, in unfamiliar terrain. And what about the Army? You were the one that told us about the territoriality of those bastards. Now, what makes you think that we can just walk out of here?”
I was furious. Sam just pointed at the overturned canoes by the campfire.
“See that? I have spread out our clothing. I don't know if it is dry yet, but if not then it will be shortly. Including the shoes. Yes, I agree that what we have here is less than perfect, but we can't just sit here either. We don't have three canoes anymore. Have you looked at Ralph and Sandy's? It's all shot up. We'll have to leave it behind.”
“Yeah, and whose fault was that?”
I shot an angry glance at Sandy.
“Come on Chris,” Tom put a hand on my shoulder. “Being angry right now doesn't help our situation.”
I shrugged his hand off and walked away. Being angry may not help our situation, but it sure as hell made me feel better.
The light of the fire had bathed everything in a golden glow and the warmth felt good. We had only packed lightweight stuff. Maybe we do have some dry clothing to wear, I thought. It would be nice. I felt something touching my arm and realized that a mosquito had started to feast on me. I stopped, this was the second time this evening that I had noticed mosquitoes. Not nearly as many as I would have expected, but still it represented a slow return to normal. I touched the clothing hanging from the overturned canoes. A couple of T-shirts were dry, and the spandex shorts Marty preferred were dry as well. The shoes were still a little damp on the inside. I took a deep breath and returned to the group, taking the dry things with me.
“Okay Sam,” I sighed. “Okay, I give in. Lets talk about walking out of here.”
We gathered by the fire and Sam showed us on the map where he thought we were. “See this little squibble? We are in this area. My guess is, it's about three, maybe four miles to the highway. And 'highway' is really pushing it. It's just plain blacktop, but on a Monday morning it should see some traffic.”
He took a sip from his coffee and pointed with a small stick.
“Here is the boundary for the base. We are off it and on the other side of the river, so we shouldn't run into any problems from them. I figure its going to take us until daybreak to hike those three or four miles.” He gave me a little smile. “I know you're in pretty good shape, but we will be walking in the dark. That's different.”
I nodded, but I wasn't sincere. I did not want to go. I wanted to stay with Tom. I was scared. You see, I may appear tough and strong, but I don't see myself as very brave at all. And right now I just wanted to be with my husband and hide in his embrace. It helped just to feel his hand on my shoulder. He gave a little squeeze.
“You can do this, babe.” He whispered in my ear. “I need you to do this. Get us home, honey.”
I f
elt my eyes fill with tears.
“We'll start out walking as fast as we can,” Sam went on to say. “We'll slow down when we start uphill. I'll lead and all you have to do is follow me. We'll stay very close together, and we won't be using a flashlight. With the full moon, our eyes will adjust nicely and we should be able to see well enough to get by. If I move too fast, let me know. Don't let me find out after I've lost you that you can't keep up.” I nodded, still not convinced of the sanity of this idea.
“Ok, then let's get this show on the road.” We ate some candy, drank some coffee and helped Tom and Sandy with the supplies. Everything we had left was redistributed. We transferred Marty's body into the canoe Sandy would be taking. For Ralph, we build a soft area in the middle of the second canoe. He wouldn't be of much help to Tom, and I knew that Tom could handle it. I was not so sure about Sandy. Finally, Sam and I changed into dry clothes and took a flashlight, a pocketknife and our wallets. My heart was pounding so, I could hear every beat in my ears and I felt as if someone were strangling me. When I hugged Tom for the final, time tears poured down my face. I tore myself away from him and grabbed Sam's hand.
