Dissension nw-6

by John O'Brien

  The images vanish completely as dreams are wont to do. Alan rubs his face again and stretches. A giant yawn escapes and he settles back into his sweat-soaked sheets. His eyes close and he is soon asleep again. He doesn’t realize it yet, but a seed has been planted.

  Michael runs through a vacant field. He feels grass brushing against the remains of his pants as he races under the bright white light shining overhead. The chill of the evening he felt at the start of the hunt is gone. It is replaced by the heat of exertion and of the chase. He and his large pack are in pursuit of one of the larger four-legged ones. This one has large horns rising above its head and is fleet. These are hard to catch but the sweet meat is well worth the effort.

  It’s been a while since he’s actually chased down prey and he relishes in the excitement. His nose picks up the musky scent, they are slowly but surely closing in. This spurs him to greater efforts. He sent part of his pack around to the sides in an attempt to corner the animal and he keeps them directed with images.

  He caught this scent earlier and the chase has led them through parts of the burned out relics of old two-legged lairs and across open fields like the one he is in. Some fences appeared out of nowhere but he hurdled those with ease, the solid thumps behind telling him his pack was still behind him.

  He still hasn’t sighted the prey but this doesn’t surprise him as there is a wall of trees a short distance ahead. Leaping over another fence, he plunges into the dense brush lining the entrance to the wooded area. Michael keeps one ear peeled for any sound from the intruder from the sky. It hasn’t shown up for a couple of nights but that doesn’t mean it isn’t out there somewhere… waiting. He still doesn’t know what it is other than it is deadly and to be avoided at all costs.

  His breath is coming hard as he races amongst the trees, darting to the side to avoid crashing into them. Low hanging branches scratch his face at times but he doesn’t register it as he knows he is getting closer. He can almost taste the sweet meat and feel the blood run down his chin as he tears into the flesh. His eagerness and hunger increase with the thought.

  He breaks into a small open area enclosed by a border of trees. There, on the other side of the clearing, the animal struggles. His massive antlers are caught in the branches. Michael watches for a moment as the animal labors to break free. Breathing hard, with his exhalations causing puffs of white mist to appear, Michael launches forward. The large animal is still dangerous but the pack soon swarms over it and it is brought to the ground in a spray of blood from its neck.

  He dives in with the rest of the pack. The eagerness of the chase is replaced by a deep-seated hunger. The smell of blood is thick in the air, spurring his excitement even further. He tears into a tender part ripping the flesh and chews on it with enthusiasm. Swallowing the enjoyable morsel, he lowers his head for another piece. Before he is able to sink his blood-stained teeth into the cooling body, he senses something he was worried about all night. He brings his head up sharply sensing Sandra far off into the night. She has taken her pack north by the two-legged lair again. With a growl of anger, he leans down to rip another piece of flesh off, his enthusiasm cooled.

  Michael returns to the lair as the sky threatens to lighten over the mountains. Many of the packs preceded him and are finding places to rest. All of them ate well tonight and their small stockpile of alternate food grew. The only damper was Sandra’s insistence on traveling by the two-legged one’s lair. That will bring harm to the pack as a whole and he can’t allow for that to happen. The last thing they need is to stir up trouble from them. He waits by the entrance for her to arrive with her pack. Even though he felt a few of the pack members vanish from his thoughts this evening, he somehow knows she will return. She has become quite effective at concealing herself and her pack and he is surprised he sensed her this evening.

  She appears just before the sky begins to change color. He stops her and draws her off to the side as her pack continues inside. It takes a while for them all to enter the narrow doorway but they eventually all pass inside.

  “You went up to the two-legged lair again when I specifically told you not to,” he verbally says.

  “There’s food to be had up that way,” Sandra replies, sending an image of the rodents in abundance. She has chosen to share this information with him hoping it will suffice for a reason to be up there and now knowing he won’t venture that way, even for food.

  “I don’t care about that. You know why I don’t want any of us up there. You are endangering the pack by being near the two-legged ones,” Michael states.

  “You are endangering us all by scurrying away and leaving them to roam at will,” she counters.

  “I can’t have you endangering the pack by going near their lair. You will stay here and only go out to gather the alternate food,” Michael says. “They are dangerous and will be dealt with but we need to hunt and survive until then. We can’t fight them in their own lair. I’ll think of a way but until we do, you are to stay away.”

  “I’ll find a way in and deal with them,” Sandra says, thinking of the strange one in their lair.

  She doesn’t want to tell Michael about him just yet, feeling he won’t use the information and find a way in employing him. Not knowing how to use what she knows just yet, she does have a semblance of a plan circulating in her mind. If Michael finds out about it, he’ll definitely make her stay and ruin her chances of getting in and taking the female.

  “No, you won’t. If I have to, I’ll make you stay in the lair. You have your own young one to think of,” Michael says.

  “That’s who I’m thinking of. We can’t run forever and they’ll eventually find us. If they do, they’ll destroy this lair like they did the last. We were lucky we weren’t all in it. That is not protecting the pack. That is providing a slaughterhouse and easy pickings for them. We have more than enough to overwhelm them,” she replies.

  “How are you going to get over the walls? How are you going to get into their lair? You’ve seen it. We can’t do that right now but we’ll find a way when we’re more secure and stronger. We’ll draw more packs together,” Michael says, growling.

  “Every night sees the two-legged ones stronger. Our chances won’t get any easier.”

  “We’re staying away for the time being and that’s that.”

  Sandra growls her disapproval but nods. She’ll wait for her chance and scout out another lair for her pack. She can’t very well bring the female back to this lair, the pack will tear her apart and Sandra needs her alive. Plus, Sandra knows she won’t survive if she does, Michael will kill her. She also has no intention of staying away from the two-legged lair. She’ll figure out how to get in and then find a lair of her own. For now though, she’ll watch and wait.

  Michael heads to find a place to rest from an exhausting night of hunting. He settles in knowing Sandra is keeping something from him. She is planning something and he’ll have to keep a close watch on her. He closes his eyes with his thoughts drifting back to the chase. The thrill of the hunt returns and, with those images drifting through his mind, he falls into a deep slumber.

  We wake the next morning, peel back the window blackout covers, and the gray of the pre-dawn light enters in the open windows. My back is sore from sleeping on the cots and I wish now that I had taken up the offer of a comfortable bed.

  I radio Greg to check in, “Rise and shine, pretty boy.”

  “Seriously?! Yours is the voice I hear first thing in the morning,” he answers.

  “Sexy, isn’t it?” I reply.

  “No, Jack, it’s the exact opposite,” he says.

  “Ah, come on, you know you like it,” I state.

  “If you knew what I was dreaming, then you’d know just how wrong that is,” he replies.

  “And, now this conversation comes to an end. There is nothing I want to know less than what you were dreaming. As a matter of fact, the mere fact of you mentioning it makes me want to pour bleach on my brain,” I say.

 
“Okay, fine, I’m up but I’m bringing this mattress with me.”

  “There is no way that mattress is making its way on this aircraft. Especially with you mentioning dreaming on it. I’m pretty sure it will need to be burned and I’m not sure even then that there is a fire hot enough to take care of it,” I say. “Now get your sorry ass up, round up everyone, and meet me on the ramp.”

  “You are such a buzz kill, Jack. We’ll be there shortly. Greg, out.”

  A short time later, with the sun sitting fully over the eastern mountains, Greg and the teams show up with Jason and a few others.

  “I’ve talked it over with the others and, with the exception of a few, I think we’ll stay here. Thank you for your offer though. However, Harold here wants to go with you and, between you and me, you’re welcome to him. He’s been nothing but a pain with his conspiracy theories,” Jason says.

  I see Harold by one of the trucks with a couple of stuffed bags at his feet. I do not really want him but I can’t think of a valid reason for turning him down. I call him over and let him know that I won’t have any dissension spread among the group and he is to keep the conspiracy crap to himself. He looks down and then, with some obvious reluctance, agrees.

  “Why do you want to come with us anyway?” I ask.

  He shrugs and says, “I’ll say just this one thing and then, as you say, keep the crap to myself. Make no mistake, I’m sure that those that started this are still around and they’ll be coming soon. It seems you and your group is better prepared to handle whatever comes. And now, like I promised, I’ll keep quiet.”

  “Okay, fair enough. Stow your gear onboard and find a place,” I say. He grabs his bags and disappears inside with four others who decided to come along. The soldier, with one arm around his wife and another holding his son close, approaches.

  “Sir, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay here with my family. Or what’s left of them,” he says with his eyes red and a tear welling up.

  “Of course,” I say. “I’m glad you found them and am sorry for your loss. Truly. I know what you are going through. Stay with my blessings. We’ll miss you but I completely understand.”

  “Thank you, sir. It’s been a pleasure serving with you,” he replies, saluting and then reaching out with his hand. I return his shake and he walks over to say goodbye to his comrades.

  “Well, we’ll fuel up, if you don’t mind us stealing some of your gas, and be on our way,” I tell Jason. I leave him with one of the spare satellite phones I brought just in case we met with others and needed to stay in contact. “We’ll be able to communicate this way. Keep in touch and let us know if you need anything. Keep in mind that we may not be able to respond quickly by flying in a few months but we’ll do what we can.”

  “That’s much appreciated. Thanks,” Jason says, accepting the phone and charging unit.

  Robert and Craig grab one of the fuel trucks at the end of the ramp and we are soon refueled. With our next stop at Malmstrom AFB, Montana input into the computer, we say our farewells and, taxiing to the end of the runway, Robert takes off into the clear blue sky heading to the northeast.

  The flight will be a short one of just under four hundred miles putting us there in about an hour. We slide over the Salmon River Mountains clawing for altitude. The brown patchwork of the valley quickly changes to forested hills and mountains with deep canyons between major off-shooting ridge lines. The blue sky is completely devoid of contrails that I was used to seeing on any point of the compass when flying during the day. We have the sky to ourselves. It’s too bad we have to share the earth with the night runners. As we traverse over the tall peaks and deep valleys of the Rocky Mountains, I’m not sure which is really worse — the night runners or the bands of marauders that we’ve come into contact with. The night runners are relentless and dangerous, yes, but the humans running around have knowledge of weapons and a modicum of tactics. Given one or the other, I’m not sure which I’d pick. With the bandits, at least I can factor in a semblance of understanding of their behavior and capabilities. I don’t seem to be able to do that with night runners as yet and I don’t like surprises.

  The mountains give way to the plains of Montana and Robert begins a descent into the base which lies just east of the Great Falls. The Missouri River winds its way through the town before continuing on its way across the plains. I have him fly over the city as we look for any movement that would indicate survivors still existed in the large city. The sprawling urban area looks much the same as Mountain Home — much of the greenery has changed to match the surrounding brown fields. Some green still exists near the great waterway, but for the most part, without irrigation, the green fields and yards have been transformed.

  Robert flies over the airfield at about five thousand feet above the ground. I want a good look at the base before we just merrily set it in like last time. Jason caught me by surprise by showing up like he did when we were doing touch and go’s. Like I said, I hate surprises. Complacency had set in and that can be a killer. Seeing so many towns abandoned, I just assumed that Mountain Home would be the same. I have to keep the A-game going all of the time. We’re just lucky they didn’t start shooting at us when we were the most vulnerable. We can’t figure everything but that was a no-brainer.

  We fly over the airfield a few times and do a few low approaches. Nothing appears on the bare ramps. There are only a couple of helicopters sitting on the large pad. This used to be a base for missile crews and the helicopters were for flying the crews to their stations. If some form of military was still around and here, they will not take too kindly to our just setting down. Our radio calls go unanswered. To all appearances, the base is abandoned. We’ll park at one of the run-up areas just off the runway far away from any building and hangars. I tell Greg to get ready to exfil the Stryker in a hurry. Robert sets it down on the long runway with a slight thump as he still isn’t used to the extra weight. He’ll get it though.

  We pull off at the end and park just off the runway but a distance from the ramp. Leaving the engines running, I glass the surrounding area with a pair of binoculars. I see nothing but tall brown grass growing in patches by the edges of the taxiways and ramp. The rest is dry, dusty fields. Nothing moves except an occasional dust devil rising in the air from a breeze moving through the area. Robert sends out additional unanswered radio calls and we eventually shutdown. The rear ramp is lowered and the Stryker untied and driven out. It too shuts down and quiet settles over the area. Even the birds and other wildlife that might be around are silent.

  “Well, how do you want to handle this?” Greg asks as we gather around the Stryker.

  “We can’t all go. I figure we’ll leave three of your team with Craig and the others. It might be a little cramped but we’ll take the rest of your team along with Red Team. The town is about fifteen miles to the southeast along that highway,” I say, pointing to a two-lane road just on the other side of the perimeter fence. “I don’t like leaving so few but I don’t see that we really have a choice.”

  I would really like to take the full teams. The Stryker won’t carry all of us but we can always pull a vehicle from the depot next to the ramp. I don’t want to leave the ones we picked up in Mountain Home unguarded though. I don’t really know them and someone full of conspiracy shit may do anything if spooked. The 130 is our only way out of here. Well, quickly, that is. It’s a helluva drive to the next base with any aircraft and I’m not about to quick learn one of the Huey helicopters parked on the ramp. The last “first” helicopter lessons weren’t pretty. Plus, with the 130 being our only quick departure plan, I do not want to leave it completely unguarded. We’ll only be a short distance away and can respond quickly if called. I wish we had brought another team but I also didn’t want to leave the compound short-handed. We’ll make do with what we have, which always seems too few.

  “Is all of Red Team going?” Robert asks, standing just behind me.

  “Yes, you are going,” I reply.

>   “And, ahem, me?” Bri asks.

  With a heavy sigh, I respond, “Yes, you can go, but you stay right with Gonzalez.”

  “I will, Dad,” Bri says.

  “Gonzalez?” I say, questioning with a raised eyebrow.

  “No worries, sir. The princess warrior and I will be just fine.”

  “I’m not shitting here, Bri. None of this ‘I think I’ll climb on top of the aircraft and shoot night runners’ shit,” I state.

  I’m not very happy about taking them along but I’m even less happy with leaving them in this world unprepared and inexperienced. I would keep Bri by my side but I know I’d be far too protective and not allow her to gain any experience.

  “Okay, Dad. I promise no climbing on the aircraft,” Bri replies.

  “I mean it, Bri,” I state.

  “Okay, Dad, sheesh… sense of humor much?” Bri responds with a smile.

  Seeing her smile melts my heart but I’m also reminded of another smile that I miss so much. I just want to duct tape Bri in foam padding and set her in a room. Maybe even a padded room. It’s much the same thought I had when I thought about her dating. However, I know that has the same odds of happening as keeping her from dating has. And that is less than zero. However, I never thought of arming her if she dated. Seeing her now with her M-4 slung over her shoulder, perhaps I should have. That would have kept the hormone-induced fifteen year old boys at a distance. Hmmmm… food for thought.

  “No, sense of humor nil. Now get your gear together and ready to saddle up,” I say.

  Loaded up, we drive through a chain link fence surrounding the airfield, across a narrow ditch, and up onto the highway. Dry, barren fields line the road, with the occasional farm house and outlying buildings here and there, as we make our way to the southeast. Some fields have tall grass growing but for the most part, they are dry and barren. We pause at the entrance to each farm house looking for anyone around but come up empty, just like the road we are traveling. We are headed for the small town of Belt where one of the soldiers has parents.