The Tsunami

by Marshall Miller

  “We’ll see you at the end, Abigail.” Alesha responded.

  Abigail found a seat on the aisle, toward the back so that she could get up and leave with Fuzz if necessary. After her big fella found that completely unexpected Eater, she was paranoid. Fuzz also seemed to be on high alert now, watching and sniffing everyone who came by. She sure hoped nothing else happened.

  General Reed would have staff members looking at everyone and everything, trying to discover how they got in with an Eater. Abigail knew the solution to it happening again. Put a dog at every door and gate. Almost any dog would do, as they all went nuts when they smelled Eaters.

  Abigail sat and watched as the five survivors came in and sat in the front row, under the watchful eye of Freda Munsen. Fuzz started to show unusual interest in the girls/young ladies, his nose working overtime.

  “What is it, fella? You’ve smelled young girls before. What’s different now?”

  Fuzz, whined, looked at Abigail, and then looked at the survivors. Abigail sighed. No use putting it off. She would have to take him up to the group, see what interested him. They walked up to the front row, and she approached Freda Munsen.

  “Excuse me, Ma’am,” She said in Norwegian. “Sorry to bother you…”

  Freda Munsen broke into a large smile. “Captain Abigail Young. Brynhildr and Grandma Knudsen have both spoke highly of you. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. And the famous Fuzz.”

  Abigail smiled back. Once again, her reputation preceded her. At least in this case, it seemed to be a positive one.

  Before she could speak again, Fuzz went to the oldest looking, dark-haired young lady, and sitting in the middle. She and the dog’s eyes met, and Fuzz began to wag his tail, something he did not do on first meetings. The young lady broke into a wide grin. “I know you. We’ve met before.” And she reached out and began to pet the canine and then scratch Fuzz’s ears.

  A puzzled Abigail looked first at the war dog, then the young lady. She saw Abigail’s puzzled look, and stood up. She gently moved Fuzz, then curtsied. “Captain Young. Hannah Weitz, Ma’am. Sorry your dog is showing so much interest, but, well, we’ve met before.”

  “When?”

  Hannah took a deep breath, to calm herself. “The pits. He was there also, quite a while ago. We spent some time together, were moved together. Then he disappeared. I thought he was dead.”

  It was like a light went off in Abigail’s head. “Did you see him with anyone else? Did you see him with a large, muscular man, well built?”

  Hannah paused for a moment. “No. Ma’am. But I did hear two men arguing about him. I was in a cell. I couldn’t see out so I never saw the men who were arguing, just heard them. One said that he was too good of a dog, that someone named…Buck, would be very angry to see such a dog being used for…the pits.”

  Abigail reached out and took Hannah’s hand, smiling. “You have no idea the gap you just filled in about Fuzz. Buck would be my Uncle, who I described. But since you didn’t see him, said that he’d be angry about what they were doing…now I know he was never there. I knew that in my heart, but I needed confirmation.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone related to you, Captain, would be involved in such things.”

  Abigail frowned a bit. “Sometimes the ones you love get involved with things that you wouldn’t like, that are bad, even evil. You can’t always pick your relatives, family.”

  One of the younger girls piped up. “Aunt Freda picked us as family. And it’s great.”

  Freda stood up. “My manners are horrible today. I apologize. Ladies, let’s all stand up and introduce ourselves to the good Captain.”

  All of the young ladies, mostly still girls, were dressed alike. All had dark velveteen dresses, almost black, with matching jackets. Abigail knew these would have taken some work to make, and looked at Freda with appreciation. Two were ten year olds, one was twelve, the last fourteen. Of course Hannah, at seventeen, was the oldest. One by one, they curtsied and introduced themselves.

  “My name is Jewel, Ma’am.” She was the first ten year old. Pretty light brown hair.

  “My name is Susan, Ma’am.” Susan, the second ten year old with Jewel when she was rescued by Johann from the truck trailer, had dark auburn hair.

  Next, the twelve year old, a darker brunette, introduced herself. “I am Sharon, Ma’am.”

  Finally, the fourteen year old, Anne, the blonde. Abigail did not know until later that she was the one Torbin had rescued from the rape by the mutated chimpanzee. “My name is Anne, Ma’am.”

  Abigail grinned. “It is so very nice to meet such fine young ladies, Mrs. Munsen. And I don’t know how you managed to produce such beautiful dresses. You must sew like a dream.”

  Freda smiled. “Oh, don’t carry on so. All of these young ladies had to help. Even Hannah, when she wasn’t working in the forge. I was a professional seamstress before the Krakens, both alien and human, came to our home. So it was not all that hard to teach these young ones. Especially since they are such quick learners.”

  The younger ones seemed a bit embarrassed by the praise. Jewel then began to study Abigail more intently, as if she was searching for something.

  “Jewel, you look like you may want to ask me something. Please go ahead.”

  “Is it true you killed and castrated some Krakens?”

  “Jewel. Don’t be rude,” Freda jumped in, afraid such a blunt question from such a young girl would offend.

  Jewel turned her gaze downward, embarrassed at the rebuke. “I’m sorry. We have just heard so many stories about you.”

  Abigail quickly knelt down, looked the young girl in the face. “It’s alright, Jewell I’ll answer that. Yes, I did do that to some Krakens who tried to hurt and kill some dear friends of mine. Including some four-legged friends, like Fuzz here. It was necessary, so there is no guilt.”

  “Are you an Avenging Angel, as we have heard?” Anne asked.

  “That is my title, and my position in Deseret, my home. Here, I represent my state, and help Major Bender and others to train soldiers.”

  “He’s the Hero of Key West, the one who killed a Squid with a knife,” Anne added. “And helped to rescue us.”

  “Yes, and he is one of my dearest friends. We met fighting Eaters.”

  Freda looked at Abigail, reached out and took her hand. “We would be honored if you came over someday to our home, and visited. I know these young ladies would enjoy feeding you some of their cookies and other baked goods. They are getting quite handy in the kitchen. And Hannah is quite handy in the forge, with my husband, Johann.” Abigail looked at Hannah, noticed her strong looking frame.

  “You work with steel, Hannah?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Uncle Johann is teaching me. In fact, I made some special items for tonight, for the three… who did not make it.” Hannah and the others became much more serious, all smiles now gone.

  Abigail looked at Freda. “I would be honored to visit, Mrs. Munsen. As long as I can ask a favor.”

  Freda smiled again. “Please, call me Freda. And what would that favor be?”

  “Could you teach me some…sewing skills? I have very few. I have learned how to sew socks, buttons, and wounds as an EMT. But that is it. I would like to learn more…ladylike skills, traditional skills. I will not be a soldier forever, I hope.”

  Freda broke into a grin. “Of course I will. You have supple, strong fingers. It will be easy.” She suddenly hugged Abigail. “You are an inspiration to all young women and girls. This large dog of yours is a legend already.” Freda released Abigail, and scratched Fuzz’s ears. He let out his typical dog sounds of appreciation, letting everyone know he was in dog heaven.

  Abigail knew it was time to leave before Fuzz made a nuisance of himself “Please excuse me. I must go back to my seat before it is taken. Hannah, it is so good to have met you, and to have found out about Fuzz’s background. And all of you young ladies are so pretty and nice. You make me feel like a clod.”

  �
�Never, Captain Young,” Hannah jumped in. “You are someone… special to us. You and Major Bender. And of course Uncle Johann and Aunt Freda. We five are so very lucky.”

  With that, Abigail hugged all the young ladies, and said her goodbyes. Fuzz mooched additional pets and ear scratches, stole a couple doggy kisses, which led to giggling. Abigail smiled. Such a ladies man.

  “I will call you, Freda.”

  “You’d better, or I will have Brynhildr track you down for me.”

  Abigail laughed. “Now I know I will be there.”

  She and Fuzz made their way back to their seats. As she sat down, she marveled at how healthy the five survivors now looked. Freda and Johann had done such an excellent job of clothing, feeding, housing—and yes, loving them—that they had blossomed in just some two weeks’ time. Abigail thought they should get some type of medal for their voluntary efforts. With no government help, they were adopting and raising five strangers, turning them into excellent citizens and human beings. How many people could claim such successes?

  The large auditorium began to fill. There were not just military types, there were also many civilians from off-base. The broadcast by Alesha had generated such an outpouring of both support for the five young ladies as well as anger and sorrow over the three who had not survived that everyone wanted to be involved somehow. Attending the memorial service was at least one way they could express their feelings, show support for the survivors. Soon, there was not an open seat in the entire building. Television cameras had been set up to record and broadcast the memorial service, as well as the awards ceremony, so many a bar and restaurant were set up to handle the overflow of people who could not find a way to fit into the auditorium. It would’ve been fascinating to have known how many people outside the U.S.A. watched the broadcast.

  Soon the venue was packed. A few more people were squeezed in with folding chairs, with the Fire Marshall looking the other way for a few moments. This was important to people, so the rules were bent a little. Fuzz sat calmly by Abigail, but did not miss a thing. If a threat showed itself, Fuzz would have reacted immediately. Abigail looked at her four-legged companion and smiled. He was such a fine dog, such a fine “person”, she knew how lucky she was. And now, thanks to Hannah, she had another piece to the puzzle of his history before Malmstrom.

  After the auditorium had been as packed as anyone dared, a voice spoke over the P.A. system. “Ladies and gentlemen, please stand for the Presentation of the Colors, and the national anthem.”

  An Armed Forces Color Guard marched down to the front, turned toward the audience. A high quality recording of the Star Spangled Banner began, and everyone sang along. Only eight states may be Free, but dammit, they were still the United States. And old glory and the anthem harkened back to times and conditions they hoped to recapture. The colors were then retired.

  “Please remain standing as the departed are brought forward.”

  Abigail watched as the three caskets were brought forward. Among the casket bearers were Torbin, Emily Anders, Rolf, Uncle Johann, Brynhildr and Commissioner Miller. Those who were part of the Raid, who had rescued the five survivors, felt a responsibility to help place those they were too late to rescue in their final resting place. The rest of the positions were filled by Sons of the North and Special Agents. The slow procession was done in silence, until the three caskets were placed on the stage in front of the auditorium so all could see. The casket bearers then retired back to their seats in the auditorium. A military chaplain, Major White—formerly U.S. Air Force assigned to Malmstrom Air Base and trained in interdenominational services—then came on the stage. A video screen suspended at the back of the stage was turned on, displaying a scene of a beautiful sunny big sky Montana day.

  “Friends and neighbors, those who helped to rescue the survivors that fateful day, I welcome you to on this bittersweet day. Bitter because we are having to lay to rest three young people struck down before their time. Sweet because they are in a better place, with passed loved ones, and because we are all gathered here to pay tribute to these dearly departed.”

  The chaplain paused for a minute, glancing at some notes. Then, he placed them aside. “I had some prepared comments, a bit of a sermon. But I could not do them justice. I didn’t know these three young children. Commissioner Paul Miller has done his best the last two weeks to locate friends, relatives of the departed, but to no avail. However, we have here one person who at least knew them a little. Who knew of their tribulations before they left this earthly coil. And she has asked to speak on their behalf.”

  The chaplain paused, looked into the audience. “Hannah Weitz, could you please come forward?”

  Hannah stood up and walked to the stage. She carried herself with a grace and confidence of someone of many more years of age and experience. In her shiny dark hair Freda had woven some bright garlands, almost forming a halo. The hall was so quiet one could hear a pin drop.

  She made her way to the dais on the stage, the chaplain meeting her, taking her hand. They embraced, and the chaplain, smiling, stepped to the side and rear of the stage. Abigail noticed Hannah had no notes, no prepared written comments. But she could tell the young lady knew what she was going to say. And she started in a firm, projecting voice for such a young person.

  “Thank you, Chaplain White. I know the three departed appreciate you being here. As they appreciate all you in the auditorium being here, witnessing them on their journey of being laid to rest.” A couple low sobs were heard. Hannah continued.

  “My name is Hannah Weitz. I am one of the survivors. I am the one who survived the longest in captivity, some two years. During this… hell—yes I will use that word—I met June, David, and Cheryl. I never knew their last names. I met them in passing, as we were all condemned to the pits by some evil, sick monsters that walked on two legs. I will not call them humans, as they acted like no human being I have ever met. But they harkened back to another set of monsters my family has had to deal with.” She paused for a moment, as if to let her remarks sink in to those in attendance.

  “You see, I am Jewish. I come from a long line of Jewish people. Among those were two great aunts and a great uncle. They were part of another hell. The horror of the Final Solution, the Holocaust. They survived the concentration camps of Hitler and the Nazis. And today, the descendants of the Nazis are the Krakens. And like the Nazis, they need to be wiped from the Earth.” There were a few murmurs of agreement, then they died down. Hannah continued once more.

  “I do not know how long the three departed, the dead were kept as prisoners. As I said, we only met in passing. I was used many times for entertainments in the pits. I fought and was forced to…perform other acts upon threat of slow death if I refused. I survived. I survived because my great aunts and uncle survived and told the rest of the family how they did. What did they say? I will sum it up in two statements.”

  “Never give up, never surrender. And you must survive to be a witness, a speaker of the dead. That is what I am today. A speaker of the dead. Not just these three here. But also the two agents who died freeing me. And all the other victims, many unnamed, buried in various locations. Or fed to the Tschaaa. Or their beasts.”

  A person was heard retching, and a couple of people were escorted out the back of the auditorium. Hannah took a drink of water from a bottle the chaplain had left her. Then once again, she spoke. “I am a speaker of the dead. Thus I must witness to the wrongs, the evil done. Which I have been doing, and will continuing doing in upcoming legal hearings and trials to come. Plus, there is one other action I must insure is done.” Hannah paused once more.

  “I must insure that, what became the mantra of my people after the Nazis, becomes the mantra of the human race. That is, never again. Never again will we allow even the least of us to suffer as the dead have suffered. Never again will we allow people, just because they are different, maybe have a darker skin, be used as fodder for the evil ones, the Tschaaa, Squids as we call them. We must never
give up, never surrender. We must be willing to die rather than surrender. For if not, if we are willing to sacrifice others so that we may comfortably survive, then we are scum. We are as evil as the Krakens. We are as alien as the Squids. We will have become the personification of Ba’al, of Satan, the evil one.” She fixed the assembly with an iron gaze.

  “Today, in this place, we must swear our allegiance to this task. This mission of stopping the evil that are the Tschaaa, the Krakens, the Eaters, the monsters created from our earthly creatures. We must fight, resist, unto death.” As Hannah paused for a moment, some people started to applause, to loudly express support. With an authority of one mature beyond her years, she held up her hands in motion for them to stop.

  “Please. This is not about me. This is about the dead. I don’t want applause, expressions of support. I request that we all absorb what I have said, and decide what this means for all of our dead, all human dead, both in the past and in the future. I do have one small item to add, then I will be done.”

  Hannah pulled what looked like an oversized silver dollar out of a pocket. “Thanks to the efforts of those men and women who came to save me, the other survivors, as well as help from God and bit of luck, I am here to speak of and for the dead. Thanks to the love of Johann and Freda Munsen, I have a new family with my fellow survivors. And thanks to Uncle Johann’s forge, I have been able to create some symbols for what I present to you today, as I speak for the dead.”

  She held up the oversized shiny silver coin. “On this coin I have tried to recreate symbols of every known, organized religion. I do not know what the dead here today believed in. Nor what other dead believed in. But I believe that they have gone on to a better place, an afterlife. This coin is a symbol of that belief, that hope.” She turned the coin over, broadcast cameras trying to focus in close on the coin in her hand.