A New World: Sanctuary

by John O'Brien

  “I’ve got the aircraft,” I say.

  “I can land it,” Robert shouts back obviously enjoying his flying and maybe feeling the same as me; that this could be our last time.

  “I know but we’re going to take a small detour,” I shout back.

  I bank the aircraft to the left and, once the waters of the harbor appear under our nose, drop the aircraft down until we’re just barely over the water. The Puget Sound shoots under our nose as I move the throttle up a little more. The memories come back of similar adventures under slightly different circumstances; mostly penetrating under radar. The thrill of flying so close to the ground, or water in this case, comes back. I always loved flying low level and I mean really low level. I remember taking jets up through the canyons of northwest Texas. Oh the fun!

  We turn and follow the waterway up through the narrow passages. The tree-clad islands flash by our windows, their tops often above the horizon from us. I look over at Robert to see a big grin plastered on his face. Bri is grinning as well but I also notice she has her legs raised slightly as if to avoid scraping her feet on the water below us. Lynn has a smile on her face knowing the little kid within me is having fun. The others have wide open eyes as if they’re not enjoying this as much and instead see their imminent death.

  “Okay, we’ve had our fun. We should head back. But there’s one other thing you should see and experience,” I say bringing the throttles back and slowing.

  “Robert, lower the ramp,” I add once we’re below the safe operating speed for it.

  “Okay,” he says with his grin getting even larger as if he’s guessed what I intend.

  “Go take a look out back if you want but make sure you’re secured by the safety straps,” I shout over the roar from the engines. Robert, Bri, and Lynn unbuckle and begin heading to the back. Kelly, Brian, and Jessica all remain seated.

  “You don’t want to go see?” I shout. All three shake their heads.

  “Your loss,” I say in response to the negative answers.

  * * * * * *

  Robert heads down the cockpit stairs eager with anticipation but with a touch of nervousness as well. The roar is louder in the cargo compartment with the ramp open. The view of the water rushing by the open ramp door causes a jolt of adrenaline. Lynn, Bri, and him find the crew chief safety straps and attach them before stepping out onto the open ramp. The water is rushing by and he feels as if he can reach a hand out and touch it; the tops of the small waves only feet below him. He looks up and the sight of the water scooting by only feet below him is dampened by the sight further behind the aircraft. The big-bladed propellers, themselves only a few feet over the water, are taking big bites out of the air and sending huge rooster tails of water into the air behind them. The sight of anything else behind them is lost by the immense amounts of water being launched skyward. He is mesmerized and feels like he could stand here forever; just watching the phenomenon unfolding. Knowing he can’t and that they need to get on with their day, he turns and walks back to the cockpit with Lynn and Bri in tow.

  * * * * * *

  “That was intense,” Robert shouts settling into his seat once again.

  “I know right!?” I shout in return. It’s a good feeling seeing the smiles inside the cockpit knowing we can still eke a measure of enjoyment out of our situation.

  “Do you want to go in back?” Robert asks.

  “No, I’m good. Seen it a few times,” I answer. Truth is, I would love to go witness it once again but any deviation from our course this low, even a slight one, would make a big splash and not in a good way. I’m just happy they could see such a sight.

  The sound widens out and I push the throttles up, after closing the ramp, bringing the aircraft up in a climbing turn; the climb necessary to give us wingtip clearance for the turn to reverse our direction. We are about adjacent to McChord but I want to do a fly over Cabela’s to let everyone know we’re back. I bring the aircraft back down to our previous level and let Robert fly some of the way back with my hands hovering over the controls.

  Reaching our entry point, Robert climbs out of the Puget Sound and picks up I-5 once again. The green roof of Cabela’s flashes by as we buzz the building letting the folks we left behind know we’re back. The now-empty transport vehicles and Humvees are parked in a line in the parking lot closest to the building. Several black-clad people look up as we pass overhead; shading their eyes from the glare of the sun as we zoom past. The only sign of life we’ve seen on our short journey back. The sight of them below us gives me a measure of relief knowing they’re okay. With the airfield just ahead of us, Robert goes through the checklist and sets us up for a landing. He has come a long ways with his flying and has become a competent pilot. I guess stress and extreme situations allows us to become proficient at a quickened rate.

  The landing is neither his worst nor his best. It’s just a landing and we pull adjacent to our previous sanctuary, parking close by to give it some company in its retirement. Who knows if we’ll need to use this aircraft again but it is nice knowing it’s available if we do. I imagine several scenarios in the future where we could use a working 130 to find other survivors but for now, we need to see to ourselves.

  The Humvee is carefully offloaded and we begin our drive back. The sun has passed its zenith as we maneuver through the dead base and out of the gate. The smiles that were prevalent a short time ago are replaced by looks of determination and seriousness as we re-enter our survival situation in earnest.

  “Are we going to get Carrie now?” Kelly asks from the back.

  “Yes, we’ll take a team and go look for her once we get back,” I reply.

  “Why not now?” She asks with a touch of impatience. I certainly understand her eagerness and I know I would be feeling the same if it were my child.

  “Because we’ll have more people to look for her and for safety,” I answer. “We’ll leave as soon as we can once we get back.” I know this isn’t the answer she wants but she remains silent for the rest of our drive.

  I’m exhausted once again from a very sleepless night as we crest the hill to Cabela’s and park next to the line of vehicles. We have a number of hours before night hits once again but not enough to begin the process of building our wall of safety around us. There’s a lot of planning to do at any rate and we’ll use the remaining daylight hours to figure out the exact steps and assignments. That is after we go see about Carrie. Yet another rescue but I have the feeling that this will be a prevalent aspect for our future; finding other survivors.

  Lynn steps out of the Humvee and walks over to Drescoll who is standing by the entrance as the rest of us begin to gather the supplies from the back. The lively feeling I had earlier is now replaced by an overwhelming tiredness. I’m not in an overly energetic mood so I take my time with the supplies and would much prefer to bask in the warmth radiance of the sun. I am about to head inside to gather up Red Team and go look for Carrie when I notice Lynn’s head snap in my direction. I watch them as she turns back to Drescoll saying something and walks hurriedly towards me with Drescoll right behind.

  “Jack, I don’t know how to say this but….” Drescoll begins to say.

  “Jack, you better hurry inside. Nic’s been bitten,” Lynn interrupts with tears forming in her eyes.

  “What!!!? How the fuck…” I start saying and take off at a run for the entrance.

  An overwhelming panic grips my insides. My stomach turns to knots and I feel a fist squeezing my heart. One of my kids, Nooooooo! Not my precious Nic. Please No! I scream inside as I bolt through the open doors. Robert and Bri were beside me and are right on my heels. I race through and stop suddenly not knowing where to go.

  “Where?” I say in a panic turning to Drescoll who has paced us with Lynn beside him.

  “Upstairs,” he replies.

  I take off at a run again for the far escalator taking them two at a time. All other thoughts vanish. I desperately need to see my Nic. A wave of nausea grips my inside
s. I shouldn’t have left, I think reaching the top of the escalator feeling like a complete failure. I should have been here for all of my kids. I race across the linoleum with the sound of boots pounding behind me as Robert, Bri, Lynn, and Drescoll follow. The fear gripping me is mixed with a surreal sense like this can’t be happening.

  Nic is lying on a cot with Mom bent over her, her hand on Nic’s head; softly stroking it. I dash to Nic’s side and go to my knees, dropping my carbine to the floor and take her hand. Her hand feels like it is on fire. Her face is flushed and her eyes have the glassy look of a fever as she turns her head towards me. Her beautiful hazel eyes gaze up into mine.

  “Hi, Dad,” Nic whispers.

  “Hi, hon. How are you feeling?” I say seeing her face blur through the tears forming in my eyes.

  “I’m cold,” she responds whispering again as a tremor passes through her small, frail body. Her hand tightens on mine with the tremor.

  I look at the bandage at her neck and shoulder. I peel back the white compress and see the bite with the bright redness of infection surrounding it. The skin past the redness has turned a gray color. My “I can and need to fix it” mode comes into play.

  “Get me some antibiotics,” I say without turning.

  “We’ve been giving her some every hour,” Drescoll responds behind me.

  “I said get me some dammit!” I say harshly not wanting to hear anything else right now and wanting to fix my sweet, beautiful girl. The nausea and fear still grip not only my insides but my entire being as I look at the bite mark on my sweet Nic. Spirits, please, don’t take my Nic. Take me if you need someone but please don’t take her. I’ll do anything you ask if you spare her.

  “How did this happen?” I ask.

  “Night runner got in,” Drescoll responds.

  “How did they get in?” I ask.

  “Roof access door,” he answers.

  “How many?”

  “One.”

  “One!? Only one! You’re kidding right!?”

  I feel a tap at my shoulder and turn to see Lynn hand me some crushed pills. I sprinkle it liberally over her wound and replace the bandage. I take Nic’s hand back. Lynn settles in beside me with Robert at Nic’s head and Bri kneeling beside Mom taking Nic’s other hand. All have tears in their eyes with Bri’s streaming down her cheeks. Mom’s eyes are red from crying. I barely hear the soft murmurings of the others talking to Nic as I gaze into her sweet face once again. I want to do more and feel at a loss as to what. I have always been able to fix things in one capacity or another and feel a tremendous fear and sorrow build at not being able to fix this right away. Panic, fear, and a deep sadness.

  “I love you, Nic,” I say with a blurred vision.

  “I love you too, Dad. Don’t cry, Dad,” she whispers. “It’ll be okay. I’m glad you’re back.” That’s my Nic, always thinking of others.

  “I am too, hon,” I say but am unable to say more as the sadness I feel deep inside keeps me silent. It threatens to rip my heart apart.

  Another tremor takes hold of her body; stronger and lasting longer than the last. She arches upward slightly as her body tenses. Her eyes squeeze shut and then it passes. I stroke her cheek lightly feeling the heat radiate. She looks at Bri and then Robert, smiling at both of them with her sweet smile and telling them she loves them, before looking back at me.

  “I’m going to miss going to the woods with you, Dad,” she says. “I’m so glad you’re my Dad.”

  “Don’t’ talk like that, hon. We’ll have plenty more times together there.”

  She just looks at me and smiles. “Dad?”

  “Yes, hon,” I answer feeling the hot tears stream down my cheeks.

  “Promise you’ll meet me there,” she says in a soft whisper and her body tenses with another tremor. Her hazel eyes look up into mine after her body relaxes and she smiles her soft smile. She gazes with clarity one last time into mine as her hand goes limp in mine and the life leaves her eyes.

  Noooooo! I feel for a pulse and, feeling a light, thready one, begin resuscitation efforts. I feel my tears splash against her cheeks as I try to blow life back into her. Please no! Please, anything but this! Please don’t take my Nic from me. Please come back, sweetheart. Don’t leave me.

  I hear Mom wailing in the background with Bri, Robert, and Lynn crying but this is lost on me as I try to blow my very life back into my sweet, beautiful girl. I feel a hand on my shoulder after a while but shrug it off violently and, with a deep panic, continue to breathe into Nic.

  “Jack,” I hear behind me a while later.

  I stop and look down at my girl. I check for a pulse and find none. I reach up and close her eyes. She looks so peaceful lying here. I stroke her cheeks not noticing that coolness has replaced the fire that was so prevalent before. Nic, please come back to me. I look at that sweet face that always had a laugh ready; already missing its sweet sound. The sweet, thoughtful and kind words for anyone that would come from those lips will speak no more. The look of love that would radiate from her beautiful eyes. I would never get to see that look again. The wonderful times we had together, full of peace and warmth and serenity. Thinking we would have an eternity to spend those moments together. I will now never again sit with Nic on our hill, basking in the peace and just enjoying being with each other. This vibrant and full-of-life girl of mine is gone. Gone. The realization of this comes to light and I feel my heart torn apart; ripping to pieces.

  “Nooooo!” I scream and collapse to the floor on my knees.

  “Jack, I’m so sorry,” Lynn says sobbing, wrapping her arms around me.

  I feel her arms around me, or notice but from a distance as I feel completely numb to all that is around me. Numb except for extreme pain and grief. The one thought that echoes above the pain is that I have failed. All that I have done is a failure if it cost the life of one of my kids.

  I cry myself out on the floor after a long while and feel a numbness seep into my being. I also feel that void being replaced by anger and frustration. Frustrated at feeling so helpless in being unable to save Nic; angry that my Nic has been taken from me; angry at myself for leaving her behind and not being here for her. The pain turns to anger; a pain and anger so deep it wants to explode. I rise, pick up my M-4, and rock the charging handle back chambering a round. Lynn, who had her arms around me the entire time, rises with me and looks at me with concern. I round on Drescoll, transferring the anger inside me to him for not keeping my daughter safe. I’m not thinking clearly except to think he should have kept my daughter safe. I entrusted that responsibility to him and he failed but know deep inside it’s my own failure. The pain has to be vented somewhere.

  Drescoll sees the look in my eyes looking at him and takes a step backward. Lynn, seeing the burning in my eyes, steps between us.

  “Jack, you don’t want to do this,” she says looking up at me. I merely look from her to him.

  “Before you do anything, let me tell you what happened,” she says putting a hand to my chest and relates the actions of the night prior that Drescoll told her. “Jack, Nic saved his life. Don’t take what she died saving.”

  Her words sink in but it doesn’t alleviate the pain. Only that it has to be released somehow. I realize she’s right and he didn’t do anything wrong but the pain and anger are still ripping apart my insides. I hand her my M-4 and trudge down the stairs and outside. I know Robert, Bri, and Mom could use some consoling as well but I am not capable of that right now and just need to be alone. The sun on my shoulders outside doesn’t convey the warmth it did upon my arrival. I feel only a crushing blackness within.

  I begin walking across the parking lot with no destination in mind. My only thought is to get somewhere where I can be alone. I see Little Robert off to a side of the parking lot playing fetch with Mike. Other teams are in the lot but keep busy looking elsewhere. Word must have spread and they feel uncomfortable not knowing what to say or do; knowing anything they say or do couldn’t possibly help.
The exception is Red Team; Gonzalez, McCafferty, Henderson, and Denton.

  “Sir,” Gonzalez says putting a hand on my shoulder, “I know whatever I say can’t possibly help but, well, I’m sorry.” The others pat my shoulder, nod in agreement with Gonzalez’s statement, and then walk away.

  She’s wrong, I think watching them walk away in the sunlit parking lot. There’s a spark of light at the concern and sympathy both they and Lynn showed. Even Drescoll. I could see it in his eyes but didn’t give him a chance to voice it. I continue across the lot, numbly picking a direction. The lot ends and the brown grass begins but my steps carry on. The dry grass crunches under my boots as I walk further away from the building as if distance can ease me.

  The grief crushes me once again and I drop to my knees in the grass. The sorrow and deep loss inside flows outward in wails. It threatens to overwhelm me. With each wail, I feel a little less pressure inside until I feel empty; a burned out husk but without the feeling like I’m going to explode. Numb and empty, I return back. Robert, Bri, Mom, and I hug and cry for a time. I try to cover Nic but fumble, blinded by my tears at seeing her again. I feel another hand on my shoulder.

  “We’ll take care of her, Jack,” Drescoll says.

  “Thanks. And I’m sorry,” I say to his gesture of understanding and sympathy.

  He shrugs, “I’m sorry too, Jack.”

  I look past Drescoll to see Kelly standing in the background and am reminded that she has her own lost daughter to be taken care of.

  “Drescoll, Kelly’s daughter is missing. Can you have Red Team help her?” I ask.

  “Sure thing, Jack, consider it done,” he answers.

  I collapse on a cot feeling overwhelmed; very tired. I plan to take Nic out in the morning to lay her to rest in our favorite place, remembering her last words as tears stream down my cheeks until I fall asleep. I sleep for the rest of the day and through the night, waking in panic at intervals, feeling a short relief thinking it has all been a horrible dream until the reality of it sets in, beginning the whole process once again.