by JT Sawyer
As the weeks went by, Eliza slowly found herself spiritually replenished by the simple act of working with her hands out on the land. While she had previously learned how to use her knife for fighting, she now discovered how to carve traps, whittle utensils, filet fish, and process wild game that they had obtained with their rifles. Her hands grew calloused and were often spotted black from the residue of pine sap. She marveled at the rugged exterior of her leathery palms which had formerly been so soft from their weekly manicures.
As fall transitioned into early winter, she grew more confident in her outdoor abilities but knew that it was only the beginning of what could be a long apprenticeship and one she wasn’t ready to commit to yet as her thoughts frequently turned to Fort Lewis. With each day, as her technical abilities grew, she reveled in her identity as ‘Eliza, the new girl’ as everyone referred to her. No political facades to maintain, no hidden agendas, and no reporters probing into every excruciating detail of her life. It was the first time in her life that she felt truly accepted by a group and she felt her former identity being slowly replaced by one that bore a freedom of expression untethered by politics or fabricated perceptions.
****
The last leaves had fallen from the oak trees and with it came the chill of a mid-November breeze. After another day working in the forest, Eliza sat alone in the cabin beside the fireplace, staring into the fading embers as the wood hissed and snapped. The flames burnished the roughhewn timber walls behind her with an amber color. The past few weeks had been idyllic and she felt a deep peace settle over her as she fell into the daily rhythm of life under open skies. But the gnawing sensation of her hidden past and the mysterious laptop in her possession kept eroding her newfound freedom until she couldn’t ignore them any longer. She felt at war within herself as her feelings oscillated between guilt at staying in this forest sanctuary enjoying her anonymity and the sense of responsibility to fulfil her father’s final wish.
She let out a long sigh and then ran her hand along the back of her neck. Does the laptop even matter any longer? What was so important that my father requested me to get it safely to Fort Lewis? Maybe the scientists there have already uncovered what they needed elsewhere. Why did this have to be in my possession? If only it had burned up with Air Force One then I could stay put in this small community…yet my father thought it was important enough to bring with him.
She heard the creaky wooden door open as Darcy entered, carrying an armload of split aspen. The older woman placed the logs in the corner and then sat on a circular wooden stool next to Eliza.
“How long before the heavy snows arrive here in these mountains?”
“You mean how long before you can no longer get out of here and have to wait until the spring to leave?” said Darcy, removing her wool hat and gloves.
Eliza looked at her with a puzzled expression and then returned to staring into the fire, not sure what to say.
“I’ve seen how you grow distant in the evenings around the campfire and know your thoughts are pulled away to the northwest—to Fort Lewis.”
“How did you…”
“You have bad dreams some nights and you have spoken about Fort Lewis a few times and also about someone named Willis. Is that where you were headed before you ran into us?”
Eliza clasped her fingers together and then looked up at Darcy, whose face was aglow in the small flames darting out from the fireplace. “Yes, he…” she hesitated saying his name, “…he and I were headed to Fort Lewis. We were, uhm, going to…” Eliza cleared her throat and then tried again. “It’s just that we…” She was never good at lying and her friends had always jokingly said she should never venture into politics.
Darcy rubbed her rosy cheeks and placed her chilled hands near the edge of the fireplace then looked back towards Eliza. “Look, sweetie, I don’t need to know why. I’m sure you had good intentions. All that matters anymore is finding a reason to live and making it stick—and that reason is going to be different for everybody. It’s not enough to just survive—what’s the point of eking out an existence if you’ve got nothing to aim for? I’ve told you before that you’re welcome to stay here with us as long as you want but the window for leaving this mountainous region before we’re buried in snow is closing fast.” Darcy leaned forward towards Eliza. “You’d be better riding it out here until April when the weather will be more hospitable unless you’ve got a pressing reason to move on.”
“What would I find along the way? Are there any small towns or is it all sprawling metropolis?”
“Two-thirds of the route would be rural but that last stretch would put you in the suburbs—there is one route I have outlined in red on the map in my truck that was passable last I heard.” Darcy sighed and pursed her lower lip. “Look, you seem like a stubborn woman, much like myself, who’s gonna do what she needs to do regardless of the advice pouring in her ears.” Darcy frowned, hesitating to continue. “I could take you as far as Highway 12. That would put you about 70 miles southeast of Fort Lewis. We just don’t have the fuel to do the trip all the way there and I’m not even sure the roads are traversable from the mass exodus out of Seattle.”
“I wouldn’t want to put you at risk. I would do this myself.”
“You saved our lives, dear. You saved me. It’s the least I can do, especially for Eliza Huntington.”
Eliza jerked her head sideways towards Darcy and then she studied the woman’s face, wondering what was coming next. She began to get up but was caught by Darcy’s hand on her shoulder.
“It’s OK, your secret is safe with me.”
Eliza sat back down and stared into the fire. “How long have you known?”
“A few days after being back here. There was something about your slight accent that stuck with me and then I remembered a speech I heard that President Huntington gave before the collapse. It was that same subtle Boston inflection and it clicked with what I remembered about a news article about you being at the University of Arizona.”
Darcy reached beside her leg and grabbed her water bottle, taking a drink. “You were headed to Fort Lewis all along, is that it?”
Eliza nodded, her stomach sinking as if she was back on Air Force One as it spiraled downward. “There are some days you wish you could rewrite in your life and there have certainly been a few dark ones during this long, cold fall.”
“You’re here, Eliza. You made it. You survived through it all and you’re still here. I think that’s providence. However bitter the fruit may seem that fell in your hands at this moment in life, maybe this is the road you were supposed to walk all along.”
She rested her hand over Darcy’s and smiled. “You’re one of a kind, Darcy, and a good woman. I will miss you the most when I’m gone.”
“I can recognize pain and longing, and yours runs the deepest out of everyone here. I know you have to go.” She pulled her silver hair loose from the ponytail and shook her head. “Well, if that time comes—note my optimism that you will stay longer—I hope you are not gone for long. You fit right in here.”
Eliza shoved a few more logs on the fire and then resumed sitting as Darcy asked her some questions about her father, what she knew about any cure for the virus, and how she had come to be in Idaho. As the dance of flames grew slimmer over the next two hours, Eliza explained what she knew about the outbreak and the plane crash as Darcy sat in silence, prodding the embers on occasion with a metal poker. As each parcel of information was revealed, Eliza felt like a massive boulder had been removed from her back, her true self finally being revealed. It also made her feel more vulnerable with regards to how the others in camp would view her and it further galvanized her plans to leave for Fort Lewis.
With the logs reduced to blood-orange coals in the fireplace, Darcy stood up and stretched, letting out a squeaky yawn. “I am tired from all of the woodcutting today, not to mention all the info you’ve filled my head with. I think I’ll sack out.”
“Not me, I’m gonna stay awake all
night and make sure I don’t talk in my sleep anymore,” said Eliza with a chuckle. An hour later, after Darcy was sound asleep, Eliza grabbed her pack full of food, the laptop, and extra clothing and slid out the cabin door with the truck keys she had removed from Darcy’s coat.
The night air was crisp as she quietly made her way through the camp to a narrow trail that descended through the forest, her boots flowing over the oak leaves strewn on the path. The full moon provided her with enough light to navigate along the faint but now-familiar trail. She stopped periodically to gather some pine sap which she had used in the past as an antiseptic along with picking clumps of usnea longissima lichens which she was depended on for an antibacterial gauze and even for firestarting tinder. An hour later, she arrived at the vehicles two miles down the mountain. She removed the multi-cam netting from a dinged-up green F-150 pickup and opened the creaky door, tossing her swollen backpack and rifle inside. Eliza heard a barred owl hooting in the conifers to her rear and paused to look up at the night sky, noticing the Big Dipper and then tracing her eyes up to the location of the North Star. The stars were twinkling furiously and she knew that such a sign meant it would be windy in the coming days as high winds aloft descend. She raised a boot up on the dirt-encrusted step of the truck, inhaling the deep fragrance of the scented conifers one last time before climbing inside and keying the ignition. The headlights sliced through the darkness along the snaky dirt road as she made her way down the mountain while the occasional feathery snowflake drifted past the windshield.
Chapter 36
Carlie’s introduction to Lavine was unimpressive as the man casually shook her hand when he entered the room while muttering, “Good job down there in the jungle,” his voice flavored with indifference. She had never met the man before during her work with the Secret Service but had heard from other agents that he was a soulless number-cruncher who preferred his flow charts over reality. It was well known that he had a kind of perverse encouragement with his personal advisors whom he’d often praise and belittle in the same sentence, not to mention possessing an L.B.J.-like appetite for the younger female staffers. It was rumored that he and President Huntington had a pleasant working relationship early on but that had quickly eroded to enmity between the two men and the president was quietly considering a replacement. She paid little heed to Lavine and knew it was probably the likes of Duncan, with his extensive combat experience, that she’d look to for getting up to speed on real-world events since her return.
Carlie and her group spent the next four hours relating their field experiences and intel about the virus with Duncan and his two Special Forces teams, Lavine, and half a dozen medical researchers.
Pavel took the lead during the discussions on viral transmission and the scope of the pandemic, reviewing his early research and the possibility of isolating an antidote if they could locate the Annoric Cold-Weather BioFacility.
“The fact is,” he concluded, “that if we can obtain the original samples stored at Annoric, then that will provide me with a crucial baseline for working with this modified strain and initiating work on a vaccine.”
“How long to develop an antidote once you have what you need?” said Duncan.
Pavel looked around the room at the new faces and then back at Carlie and the others whom he had already discussed this with in great detail over their many seaside campfires together. “Six months of research, at least.”
“And then after that, we’d have to figure out how to distribute it en masse,” said the sec-def, who was sitting at the end of the table, rapidly tapping a pencil on the veneered surface.
When Pavel was finished the entire group took a two-hour break while Duncan conferred with the sec-def. After reconvening, Duncan stood up and moved to the podium, pulling up a map of Alaska on the PowerPoint screen behind him. There were three areas circled in red outside of Fairbanks. Two had question marks inside them and the other had an X running through it.
“Annoric was a government subcontractor employed by the CIA. Their primary job was to serve as a level-four secure repository for bioweapons that the agency either formulated themselves for research,” his fingers forming air-quotes at the latter term, “or that they procured from less stable regimes around the world.”
He raised his hand up to the farthest red circle northeast of Fairbanks. “We will start with this one first as SAT imagery indicates that this facility’s power grid is still online. Once this storm front along the west coast and B.C. clears, my team will deploy seven days from now for Fairbanks where we will link up with Eielson Air Force Base on the outskirts of that city. From there, we will insert via helo if the weather is favorable.”
“Given that Annoric is a high-level facility, what is your plan for breaching the compound?” said Jared. “That place probably has the most cutting-edge security system in the world.”
“That’s the crapshoot part of this operation. No codes, no access. We’re hoping we can make contact with any staff inside, if they’re alive, and proceed from there. If not, then this whole trip may be for naught as the amount of ordinance it would take to breach that place wouldn’t leave much intact. Gaining entry is imperative.”
Chapter 37
Six days later, Carlie was sitting at a table in the commissary next to Shane and Matias. They were nibbling on some cornbread and finishing a plate of rice and beans with cheese flakes when Duncan entered the room. He quickly made his way to the round table and sat down across from her. She slid the platter of cornbread towards him but he shook his head and brushed the plastic container aside.
“Ms. Simmons, would you mind accompanying me to D-Wing? I need your help with personnel verification.”
“Come again—how’s that? I don’t know anyone here at this base.”
“You might, just come with me, please. If this is who I think it is, you’re going to want to see this. I can’t say anything further. Just follow me.”
Carlie stuffed the last piece of cornbread in her mouth and licked the crumbs off her index finger. Then she grabbed her daypack and followed Duncan out of the room while Shane and Matias trailed behind.
“Keep in mind that what I’m about to show you needs to stay under wraps for now until the sec-def figures out how to address this with the larger community here,” Duncan said as they quickly maneuvered down steps, through hallways, and into a security containment area on the lower level.
“OK, now you’ve really got me curious,” she said while looking back at her friends with raised eyebrows.
As they passed through a set of steel double doors, Duncan stopped before a one-way observation window. The overhead fluorescent lights in the small holding room beyond made it difficult to discern the slender figure inside who was sitting with her back to the window. Carlie moved forward, straining to see the person at the metal table. The woman had on a mish-mash of tattered clothing with blood splatter on the sleeves and cracked leather boots with soles that were wafer thin. An empty machete sheath dangled off her left belt and her hands were baked brown. The woman’s raven-colored hair was tangled and had been hastily pulled back into a ponytail.
Duncan moved forward and tapped on the glass, causing the woman to turn and stand. As she moved forward Carlie saw the hardened expression of a familiar face as the thin woman moved slowly to the window. Her eyes bore a feral look and her taut face revealed two parallel scars on her left cheek that caused Carlie to gasp. She felt tears well up inside her and her lips began to quiver. She laid a hand over her heart and then formed it into a fist that moved up to her lips.
“My God, it’s Eliza.”
Carlie put her outstretched hand up to the window, pressing it into the glass as tears streamed down her cheeks. “You made it out alive. My dear Eliza. You made it.”
Chapter 38
An hour later, Carlie was sitting alone outside of the medical lab where Eliza had just completed a physical exam. Duncan came down the steps and sat beside her on the green wooden bench that lined th
e wall.
“How much longer before I can see her?”
“She should be done in about twenty minutes. The docs say she’s slightly malnourished and had mild hypothermia but is in good shape otherwise.”
“What about those scars on her face?”
“She’s got more than just those,” Duncan said, motioning with his fingers towards his arms and back. “She’s seen quite a bit of action out there.”
“Jesus, I can only imagine. You said Air Force One went down near Boise two months ago,” Carlie said, shaking her head and clenching her fist. “She’s been gutting it out on her own all this time while trying to make it back here. I knew she was a stubborn one but this…this goes beyond mere survival.”
“She said during the initial debriefing that Agent Willis was with her for the first few weeks or so. Did you know him?”
“No, I met him once at White Sands. Seemed like a solid guy.”
Duncan pulled up a photograph on his tablet and handed the device to her. “She also had this on her. It appears to be an encrypted laptop.”
Carlie stared at the photo, her eyes widening as she looked at the image. “Damn, and she had it with her the entire time.”
“She said her father told her to get it back here at any cost. That it had critical intel that could help us with the virus.”
