by Ike Hamill
He finally let the panel rest on one screen. They both watched as the third unit came online and joined the other two. The triangle lit up the sensors and then the whole thing went dark. Niren flipped to another readout so they could track the containment. They watched as the percentage grew. Amelia felt Niren shrink under her hands and realized that she was tightening her grip on his shoulders. She forced her hands to relax.
“There!” he said.
Amelia turned her head towards the cement ceiling and yelled in triumph. “Yes!”
After a short moment of joy, she turned her attention back down. “Now tell me—how did they react?”
“Hold on…” Niren said. “Lost it. The containment broke on the third unit.”
Amelia didn’t give up. “It shouldn’t matter. They had it for long enough. It went green. Go in closer. Come on.”
She practically willed his hands to flip to the right display. Niren obeyed and they both saw the figures. Despite the break, they had indeed accomplished a short burst of containment. The result was enough to prove the thesis and produce results.
“Right there—that’s it!” she said. “Give me that in summary.”
Niren rolled up the screen and handed it to her. Amelia ran for the tunnel.
# # # # #
Before knocking, Amelia took a second to tuck in her shirt and straighten her jacket. She had run all the way from the bunker. She wanted to appear somewhat in control when she reported the results.
She knocked twice.
“Come in,” a man’s voice called from inside.
Amelia paused for a moment and then pushed through the door. She expected something bigger. They were running a big operation with dozens of moving parts. She expected the headquarters of the operation to be bustling with people. She saw only Ryan and Cleo, sitting on either side of a big wooden desk. The only light in the room was the circle of yellow light from the gooseneck lamp on the desk.
She approached and struck a respectful stance. She clasped her hands behind her back and waited. The folded screen was hidden in her grip.
“Do you have a report for us?” Ryan asked. He didn’t usually ask for things. He usually ordered them.
“Yes,” Amelia said. She looked at Cleo, who had turned her eyes away to the darkness. The older woman usually looked confident and in control.
“Well?” Ryan asked.
“We got a green lock in Kappa Three,” Amelia said with a smile.
“And the others?” Ryan asked.
“Uh. No lock. Failed to contain on beta two, beta four, and delta seven.”
Cleo exhaled.
“Casualties?” Cleo asked.
Amelia shook her head. “There’s no way to…” she began.
Ryan cut her off. “Expect at least one and as many as three for each failed engagement. So, three to nine. Perhaps more coming if there are issues coming back from kappa.”
Cleo put a hand to her mouth but didn’t say anything.
“Do you have any results from the containment?” Ryan asked Amelia.
“Oh. Yes,” she said, remembering the folded screen. She pulled it out and moved to the desk. With it spread out, they all looked at the results.
Ryan’s finger went right to the important information.
“This is good. Very good,” Ryan said.
Amelia looked to Cleo. The woman stared at the screen, but she couldn’t possibly know what she was looking at.
Amelia turned to Ryan. She knew what he expected for a report. “We show complete containment in three bands of the spectrum. We expected at least one, and the theoretical maximum is four, so we did very well here. We can expect a clearance radius of two hundred meters with repeats on prime intervals.”
Ryan nodded.
“Two hundred?” Cleo asked. “I thought this operation was going to clear a square kilometer. That’s why we put twelve lives at risk.”
Amelia was about to respond, but she deferred to Ryan.
He cleared his throat before he spoke. “We hoped for containment at two sites. That would have set up an interference pattern that would have gotten your kilometer. With only one site, we just get the circle in Kappa Three. That gives us the dry lake, a few houses, and two serviceable apartment buildings. The really good news is the spectrum. With three bands, we get everything in that circle. We don’t have to worry about heat, noise, light, or movement. Honestly, it’s much better than we expected.”
“Just get me the names of the casualties,” Cleo said. “I’ll have to make house calls in the morning.”
Amelia looked at the floor.
Ryan nodded.
Chapter 3
{Crew}
“TWO FLIPS, CLEAN THROUGH,” Logan said. He flicked the handle of the axe. The heavy axehead barely moved but the handle made a big circle around it before it slapped back into the young man’s hand. He tilted his head to the side, cracking his neck, and then swung the axe around in a big windup. When he let the thing go, it flew like a bullet. The axe spun twice in the air and lodged into the trunk of the fir tree.
His companions—another young man and woman—both laughed at him as he cursed.
Wyatt removed the twig from his mouth and smiled. “Pay up.”
“We said three tries,” Logan said. His voice was low and menacing.
The woman, just as tall as Logan and with twice the muscles, swatted Logan’s shoulder.
“You don’t get three tries on a self-imposed stunt, you goof. You invented that rule,” Scarlett said.
Logan frowned and nodded.
“Okay,” he said. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a wrinkled plastic bag. “Shoot. This is all I’ve got for the day.”
“Too bad,” Wyatt said. “You wanted to go.”
Logan held out the bag. “You know I was only playing around. Nobody could make that shot.”
Wyatt shrugged and snatched the bag from Logan. He opened it and pressed it to his face before taking a deep inhale. “This stuff is stale anyway.” He balled it up and shoved it in his pocket.
“Everybody’s tobacco is stale,” Logan said.
“Not hers,” Scarlett said. She pointed towards the edge of the clearing where an older woman sat reading a book that was propped on her crossed legs. The older woman exhaled a cloud of blue smoke. She looked up and noticed the three looking at her.
The older woman didn’t say anything. She folded her book, scuffed the ground with her boot until she got to bare ground, and then tapped the ashes from her pipe. When she had everything put away, she stood.
The young people watched as the older woman picked up her bow saw and headed to the opposite edge of the clearing.
“How come I’m twice as strong as her and she cuts down trees twice as fast?” Logan whispered. “I think she has tech in that saw.”
Wyatt nodded. “It has a Q-hookup. I saw the port yesterday. I bet the blade has molecular cutters.”
“You guys are idiots,” Scarlett said. “She stays up all night sharpening it. You would be able to cut that way if you had a sharp blade. When was the last time you serviced your saw?”
Logan didn’t get a chance to answer. The older woman’s first tree was dropping.
“Come on,” Wyatt said. “Let’s get back to it.”
Logan trotted after his axe.
# # # # #
They stood next to their stacks of wood. They were uniform, straight, and plumb. Everything was arranged perfectly for the claw to come pick up the logs and haul them off.
Despite the exhausting day of logging, the youngsters were full of nervous energy. This was the most dangerous time of the day, and they burned off their nerves by joking and shoving each other around. The older woman leaned back against the stack of logs and opened her book.
Logan wandered over. The other two weren’t far behind.
“Hey, lady, can I see your saw?” he asked.
The woman didn’t look up from her book. “I have a name.”
Lo
gan shrugged. “I don’t think you ever told us.”
“Yes she did,” Wyatt said. “She’s Jacob’s aunt, remember?”
“Her name is Mac,” Scarlett said.
Logan took in the information with another shrug. “Hey, Mac, can I see your saw?”
Madelyn lifted it up and handed it to him.
The young man took the saw and raised the blade to his eye. He sighted down its length and the pressed his thumb to one of the teeth.
“No sharper than mine,” he said. “How do you cut so fast?”
He handed the saw to Wyatt. Madelyn’s eyes followed the tool and then scanned the forest.
“It’s a million times sharper than yours,” Wyatt said with a laugh. “That’s why you’re no good at maintaining your blade—you have no idea what sharp looks like.” Wyatt took the buck saw over to a young tree and put the blade against it. With two pumps it cut through the trunk and the tree began to fall. Scarlett had to scramble out of the way.
“Get that thing off the road,” Scarlett said.
“Come on,” Wyatt said. “The truck will roll right over that.”
“That’s the problem,” Scarlett said. “It’s small and green. It could get wrapped around the axle.”
“You worry too much,” Wyatt said.
“Let me have that back,” Madelyn said, gesturing for the saw. She pulled a rag from her back pocket. “I don’t want that sap to dry on the…”
“Hush!” Logan said. He lifted his chin and cocked his head.
Madelyn narrowed her eyes.
“What is it?” Scarlett asked.
“I don’t hear anything,” Madelyn whispered.
Wyatt handed her the saw while he pressed his finger to his lips to shush her. After a second, he said, “He has, like, unnatural hearing or something.”
“We’ve got trouble from the west,” Logan said. He moved to his pack and began to strap it on.
“What about the truck?” Madelyn asked.
“If we know about it, then they know about it,” Scarlett said. “We bug out and hope we can come back tomorrow.” She and Wyatt went for their packs.
Madelyn gathered her things.
With their packs strapped on, they quickly helped each other attach their tools to their harnesses. Logan led the way east. They ran through the clearing they had just cut and then ducked into the woods beyond.
Madelyn brought up the rear. The young people didn’t check back to make sure she was keeping up. Everyone moved at their own pace. As they continued on, Wyatt swung out to the left and Scarlett swapped places with Logan. Madelyn followed the pair—they chose a decent path.
Madelyn caught up when the three young people all stopped at the same time.
Everyone’s eyes turned to Logan.
He turned his head a few times, collecting information before he spoke.
“I think there’s a splinter sweeping from the west,” Logan said.
Wyatt whipped around and looked behind them.
“And I think there’s a vehicle over that ridge,” Logan said. He pointed roughly to the north.
“There’s nothing that direction,” Scarlett said.
“Heritage,” Madelyn said.
They looked to her.
“My grandmother used to buy her groceries in Heritage. It was a little village over that hill.”
“There wouldn’t be a vehicle there,” Scarlett said. “That bridge washed out forever ago. How would they get in there?”
“Maybe they drove up the old riverbed. My friend used to do that all the time,” Wyatt said.
“Which friend? That’s a mountain river,” Scarlett said. “You can’t drive up the bed of a mountain river.”
Wyatt shrugged.
“What are our options?” Madelyn asked.
Scarlett answered. “Assuming our ride is scrubbed, SOP is to head for the PUB. That’s five klicks south.”
“In English?” Madelyn asked.
“There’s a bunker five kilometers south,” Wyatt said.
“Town is only six kilometers,” Madelyn said.
“Rough terrain,” Wyatt said. “It will take twice as long.”
“But we’ll be home,” Madelyn said.
Logan shook his head. “That vehicle has to be one of ours. I say we head towards Heritage and hook a ride. They’re probably waiting for us.”
They stood in silence for a few seconds. Wyatt studied the woods to their west and Logan looked north.
Madelyn finally spoke. “Who’s in charge? Which way do we go?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Scarlett said. “We’re all free to do whatever we want.”
“That’s stupid,” Madelyn said. “We have the best chance if we stick together. We should all do the same thing.”
“I’m headed north,” Logan said. “That vehicle can’t be more than a kilometer away. We’ll be home before dark.”
Scarlett and Wyatt looked at each other. They seemed to reach agreement without speaking.
“South,” Wyatt said.
Scarlett nodded. “Towards the underground bunker.”
They took off at a run before Madelyn and Logan could even respond. She stood there, looking at Logan as he strained to hear something that her ears couldn’t begin to pick up.
“Stick together?” she asked. She looked south. Scarlett and Wyatt had already disappeared into the woods. If she headed for town alone, she would be the slowest. It would be a bad time to be the slowest.
Logan waved to her and then started north.
After a second, she followed.
# # # # #
Logan moved fast, but paused frequently to listen. Whenever he stopped, Madelyn caught up.
“Can you still hear this splinter or whatever from the west?” she asked.
He ignored her, seemed to fix a location with his unnatural hearing, and then ran ahead. When she caught him again, she grabbed his arm.
“Can you hear anything chasing us? Or is the splinter chasing the others?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not worried about that right now.”
“What are you worried about?”
“I can’t hear the vehicle anymore. Either the sound is being blocked by the terrain, or they moved on.”
“Moved on?” Madelyn asked. “We’re getting farther and farther away from safety every second. Why are we still going north if there’s a chance that the vehicle moved on?”
“You can go any direction you want,” Logan said. “I’m going to continue on. I heard a vehicle.”
With that pronouncement, Logan moved on. Madelyn stood for a second, wondering what to do. She didn’t understand these kids. Down in Fairbanks, everyone was very community oriented. They wouldn’t think of splitting up or leaving someone behind. As soon as they got out into the wild, it was every person for themselves. A few months earlier, Madelyn would have easily gone her own way. She had always been most comfortable on her own. But living in a community had tamed her. She felt unsettled as she watched Logan get farther and farther away.
Logan might have been going in the wrong direction, but one thing was certain—she couldn’t afford to be the slowest person of their group. If something was tracking them, the slowest person would get caught. She ran to catch up with him. He could have easily outpaced her, but she caught up. She wondered if maybe he wasn’t quite as independent as he wanted everyone to believe.
They ran for a while, snaking through the terrain and making their way up to a hill. When they crested it, Logan put up his hand, gesturing for her to stop. She heard it too. There was an idling engine not too far away.
Logan stood frozen.
Madelyn moved closer to him. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go see who it is,” she whispered.
He gave his head a tiny shake. “I don’t recognize the engine.”
Madelyn saw an opportunity. She started down the hill towards the sound. Moving at a decent pace, she was forcing the decision onto Logan. He
would have to flee or choose to join her. Either way, her situation would be simplified. She didn’t turn when she heard him rush to catch up.
They both paused behind a big tree with the vehicle in sight. It was bright red and looked like it had been through hell to get to the uneven patch of road where it sat. Madelyn crouched down to see if there was anyone behind the wheel. The windows were too dark for her to tell for sure, but the idling vehicle appeared empty.
Madelyn took a step forward. Instinct made her turn back. Logan was looking back up at the top of the hill. She heard it too. At this distance, the sound of the Roamers was a faraway click, like someone banging two rocks together. As they grew closer, the clicking sound would intensify in speed and volume. Madelyn knew what would happen next. Her skin would begin to itch and tingle as the invisible monsters tore apart her flesh at a cellular level. She wasn’t going to wait around for that.
Madelyn shed her pack in one easy motion and sprinted for the red vehicle. Her brain sequenced the steps as she covered the distance. She would try the passenger’s door first. If it was locked, she would pound it with the butt of her knife. The handle had a sharp point designed for breaking glass.
She was halfway there.
# # # # #
He was still wearing his pack, but Logan passed her as they broke from the forest and slogged through the brush that cluttered the side of the old road. He reached the passenger’s door before her. It was a tall vehicle. Logan stood on the running board and tugged at the handle. Madelyn didn’t slow and didn’t try to get past him with her knife. She ran around the front of the idling vehicle, saw that the driver’s seat was empty, and grabbed the corner of the metal grill to turn the corner.
The driver’s window was halfway down. It didn’t matter—the door was open. She climbed up into the seat and punched the button to unlock all the doors.
Logan pounded on the glass and tugged at the handle. She could see his lips forming angry words. She put up a hand, ordering him to stop. When he let go of the door handle, she hit the button again and the lock popped. He ripped it open and piled in. His bow saw, protruding from his pack, nearly hit Madelyn’s face. She ducked as he pushed his pack over the seat into the rear of the vehicle.
