by Angela White
Kenn blew birds out of the sky before they could get into an open window, rotating and blasting the piercing air horn. People were amazed when the flock immediately began to divert from their straight-at-the-ground course. He knew what they were thinking: how had he known that would work?
Kenn smirked. Birds were extra sensitive to high-pitched noises, like whistles and horns. It cut through the din.
The Eagles followed Kenn’s lead, able to do so because the guards carried the loud horns in case the weather knocked out their radios. The flock circled the camp in groups, dipping and spinning. Some stayed high, but most were confused, not sure where to go, and their bodies dropped from the sky like rain.
The guns began to take their toll, the ground littered with carnage, and the rest of the flock finally understood, returning to higher ground in ragged staggers. Neat lines had also become a thing of the past for the animal populations.
Now, the guns were louder than the cries of the sick birds and they flew by instead of trying to land. They called anxiously to each other to keep from getting lost.
A minute later, they were out of sight, but their calls echoed for a long time through the gritty February sky.
“We’ll call it a day,” Adrian informed his people. “Man on point, take over.”
“Yes, sir!”
Kenn jumped from the bus, jeans and army jacket splattered with blood. He rotated, evaluating, and then gestured to Kyle. He would cover things in the order he knew Adrian would have and enjoy it that the mobster wouldn’t be able to argue. For some reason, Kenn still found Kyle to be a rival, and though he had some hopes of swaying the Italian to his side, he couldn’t stop himself from showing the man where his place was.
“Have Neil do a perimeter over in that onion field. Set it up and get them inside it. Send someone to the bus with first aid kits, and then set up a couple of showers and wash areas over here so we don’t contaminate our campsite. Make the wire tight and short.” Kenn peered at his wrist while Kyle scribbled it down. “Almost lunch. Tell Hilda to scrub the tuna sandwiches, though. There’s no way anyone will eat that shit now. Also, have Doug handle the reporter. She’s taking pictures again. When all that’s done, we’ll need new vehicles. You and your team handle it personally.”
Deeply tanned hands clenched in anger, Kyle swallowed a nasty remark and got busy. He did indeed have a beef with Adrian’s new suit, but now was not the time.
2
Hours later, Adrian groaned as he lowered his six foot one, two hundred thirty pound sore body to the dark bank of Duchesne Creek, not caring that mud began soaking into his dusty jeans. Both his knees popped, and his head ached from the fumes of all the cars they’d stripped, gas tanks they’d emptied. It had been a twenty-hour day for him already, but it wasn’t over. This area was ugly, full of death and devoid of normal life. Even the mutating ants wouldn’t live here, and that frightened him. Would spending a day or two on this ground make his people sick?
Adrian sighed. They had to have a break soon, but not tomorrow or the next day. He had settled for making camp under the retractable awning of an apple orchard (long since stripped, with the owner’s body rotting on the front walk). After satisfying himself that Kenn knew how he wanted things, Adrian had come here to steal a few minutes alone in the darkness, worrying.
Inhaling softly, the tired leader tensed at a ripple from the slow-moving creek. Something was still alive in that reeking liquid and he tried to take hope from it, moving his hand away from his gun. They were only about fifteen miles from Roosevelt, Utah, and horrible, unspeakable things had happened there. It was bad enough to make Adrian consider backtracking despite all the extra miles it would add.
This land was broken, rotting, and muddy. The roads were unbelievable, impassable without the tow trucks. Bridges had collapsed or washed away, and nearly every street was crammed full of vehicles, most empty of their drivers. Adrian assumed it was from people fleeing California and Washington. They had witnessed entire distant hills of mud collapse in the last few days, the thick, reddish ooze swallowing homes and highways, and the weather was the cause. It rained each morning now, and the saturated ground simply couldn’t hold any more. Barely above freezing most nights, the cold sleet was the color of ashes and added more weight to the muddy hills, more chemicals to the land.
He had people wearing extra layers to avoid contact with the precipitation, sure it was full of toxins, and Adrian was almost positive they were on the edge of some type of ground zero here. Besides the possible dangers, the views were hard to ignore and impossible not to feel. Twisted, burned metal, crushed cars and building walls lay over the ground like grave markers. There were charred shoes, flattened fire hydrants, and of course, bones. Human and animal bones were mixed and scattered across the sagebrush land like a jigsaw puzzle that had been shoved off a table.
Where had all this damage come from? The nearest ground zero was in California, too far to have caused this, and even his military mind couldn’t come up with another reason. This had to be the edge of a bomb zone, one that had come after communications fell, and he would add it to the map he was keeping.
Lightning flashed in the distance. The vivid reds and golds had his eye, but Adrian’s mind was on his people and their broken country. How much of his beloved homeland was like this? Most? Would they really be forced into the caves to survive, blown back hundreds of years in evolution?
“What new life can there be if we have to live it inside the rotting shell of the old one?” he muttered.
Adrian tensed again, this time at the soft crunch of a boot. His hand dropped to his hip again, despite being sure that no one had gotten past the guards. There were three full shifts of men on the perimeter, and he could feel them protecting him too, even though he wasn’t specifically training them to do it. They were following Kenn’s lead.
“Adrian?”
“Down here.” Adrian called. Maybe the future wouldn’t be as bad as what he was expecting. Safe Haven hadn’t chosen a final place to settle yet, but Adrian was certain the mountains would be winner of the vote when the time came. And he already had doubts about being able to make such a place safe for even a month, let alone for the nuclear winter he still feared was coming. The first one would be the hardest.
Following the guards’ eyes, Kenn eased across the muddy hill and sat down, handing over a mug of hot coffee. Like Adrian, he didn’t notice or care that mud was seeping into his clothes. It didn’t matter anymore.
“How are they?”
The tone was that of a commander asking about his troops after a hard day.
Kenn’s answer was simple, honest. “Tired and down, same as you.”
Adrian didn’t offer any excuses that would only be obvious lies. It was impossible to pretend that everything was fine when they were rolling over the unburied bones of their fellow citizens.
“We’ll be better when we’re away from here,” Kenn stated, taking a sheet of paper from his pocket. He’d been thrilled to discover “Man on Point” on his schedule this morning, and when the birds had hit them (coincidence or fate?) he’d come through with full marks. Before the sick flyers, though, there had been surprise from the Eagles. Now, Kenn had more pals than he needed and had chosen to keep these current favorites at arm’s length for the moment. Adrian was the only one he gave a damn about.
“Sitrep, whenever you’re ready,” Adrian guided, relighting the joint he’d been ignoring with his worried thoughts.
“Perimeter is good, no serious injuries, radio is quiet, and everyone is accounted for. The pictures from Cheyenne Mountain are in your tent.”
Adrian was sure they would be worse than those from Salt Lake City had been. “Anything?”
“No.”
When he didn’t ask for details, Kenn didn’t offer them, thinking their leader was depressed enough already. Adrian didn’t need to hear about the fry-room at NORAD they had forced open, but Kenn was sure Adrian would have recognized the clever wa
y it had been done. Someone among the slavers had military knowledge and that didn’t bode well. Kenn planned to give Adrian the full, in the report he had been asked to deliver nightly about various issues and setups.
“Neil get ‘em yet?”
“No.”
Adrian was unhappy the state trooper hadn’t gotten to go, but it had been Kenn’s mission and he hadn’t intervened. To make it up a bit, Adrian would let Neil experience the awful photos before the camp did. The people here didn’t have access to all the pictures he and the Eagles took, but the big places still gave people hope. He had to show them some of the photos or they would go off on their own to check and maybe not return. Some did anyway. Adrian was never offended, only relieved when they returned. He needed them all.
“We have two new arrivals that weren’t with the group following us. Wanted to know if we had any use for a doctor.”
Adrian’s happily surprised laugh was music to his ears. Kenn loved this feeling of pleasing the blond leader. “I knew you’d like that. John and Anne Harmon are husband and wife of almost forty years, had their own office. They were going to NORAD, but they had witnessed the smoke. Then, they heard Mitch on the CB and chose to come find out if we’re good or bad. They’d like to trade their medical skills for a place with us.”
“Damn, that’s great! It’s exactly what we need. Give ‘em a couple days to settle in and then put them to work.”
Kenn was still grinning. “Too late. He noticed Zack’s arm and insisted on cleaning and stitching it right then, along with any other injuries. Neil is setting him up in the corner near the livestock. Right now, they’re examining the scratches some of the kids got. He says the birds were likely American Gulls.”
“Give them one of the biggest tents and have a red cross painted on it,” Adrian instructed. “The doctor’s name should be in red, white, and blue–Safe Haven colors.”
Adrian made a mental note to have a talk with the doctor in the next week. With that eager attitude, he would probably be well liked. That was one of the reasons Kenn was settling in so fast. People were realizing that his only goal was to give whatever was needed, and only those closest to Adrian still had any objections.
Not that they would go against his wishes after the meeting tomorrow night. Adrian intended to make it clear where the Marine belonged, and it would help that Kenn never stole his thunder, didn’t want it. His willingness to be only support had earned him respect. Then, there was his quick reaction to the birds. Giving Kenn Point had been a great idea at the perfect time.
“You wanna do this later?”
Adrian huffed at himself in the windy darkness. “I’m easily distracted tonight. Go on.”
Adrian wondered if the Marine still planned to go to Ohio. Kenn hadn’t mentioned leaving since that first day, didn’t have much to say about his old life at all (something most people here liked, but not Adrian), and he was very busy carving out a place for himself. Again, though, there was the feeling of something being not quite right, and it was stronger now than when Kenn had first arrived. Was it because Kenn thought no one had noticed?
“...and both women are on livestock duty, like you wanted. Water is down to three tankers; toilet paper, twelve cases. We changed four flats, two windshields, and exchanged ten vehicles for the others Kyle’s team found. The tires came from the reserve.”
Adrian had known they would be into the reserve this week, and it made his stomach burn. Their transportation was nearly as important as the food, but water was priority one. If they couldn’t keep moving and finding supplies, they would die, but their reserve wasn’t growing.
“What’s the biggest problem?” he asked tiredly, already knowing. Even with the carpool law that he had insisted on, they used a lot of fuel.
“Gas. We’re down to the reserves on it, too, after we fill up tomorrow.”
The reserve of gas was a tenth of what they had found and it would only hold them for two days’ travel, at best. They should have more by now, but people were scared to leave camp. Some might not like it, but that was also about to change.
“We’ll get farther from here and drain the tanks on every car, tractor, and lawn mower that we come across. At some point, we’ll get lucky and find a station with something still in it.”
“We could try 191.”
Adrian glanced over curiously. “That’s a highway crammed with dead traffic.”
Kenn was eager to score bonus points to go with the full set of marks he’d earned earlier. “Exactly. Dead vehicles, like box-trucks and semis still full of food and water. Maybe even a fuel tanker or two.”
Adrian clapped him on the shoulder as the wind gusted again, carrying a chill they both felt and ignored. “You’re just full of good shit today.”
Kenn soaked up the praise, ready to volunteer, but stopped himself before he could. He waited to discover if it would be offered. He had made good progress with the camp. Not as much as he wanted, but it would always come down to this man’s opinion in the end.
“You’d like to go? Be in charge?”
Kenn nodded once, trying to be cool about it.
The lightning storm to the west hadn’t died down, and they both stared, human souls more afraid than in awe. Things with nature were bad now, wrong. “Sure, when?”
“Leave in the morning, early. Catch up by mess, day after tomorrow. I’ll arrange it and have Eagles meet you by the trucks. Anything else for me?”
“Nothing but Tonya. She wants to meet you in her tent.”
“Yeah, that’ll happen.”
Kenn kept quiet, brow puckering a little at the quickly-thrown sarcasm. Tonya insisted, to anyone who would listen, that she and their leader were sleeping together, but Adrian would cut people dead for even hinting it. Most had decided she was lying, chasing what she couldn’t have. Not Kenn. Adrian and Tonya might not be a legal couple, but he didn’t think Safe Haven’s Commander was refusing that pogue bait when no one was around.
“Kenn.”
He glanced up guiltily to see Adrian’s thoughtful attention on him. “You got a thing for redheads?”
Kenn dropped his own baby-blues, shrugging, “When they look like her, who doesn’t?”
Adrian chuckled, liking the honest answer. He wanted to trust Kenn, as much as Kenn obviously wanted to be trusted.
“She definitely gets a man’s attention, but she’ll do whatever she has to as long as it will get her what she wants.”
“What does she want?” Kenn questioned curiously. He wasn’t sure why he was asking and was surprised–happy–to receive the same honesty he’d given.
“For me to either be her legal mate or get out of this job, so she can put someone else in my place and have power through them. She doesn’t care which, and she’s as much as said so to my face.”
Kenn laughed, despite wanting to do and say all the right things. “She’s got guts, takes care of herself. That kind of woman was rare before the war.”
Adrian didn’t like the tone, but let it go. “Tonya’s strong and we need that, but we’re weaker with her too, because she uses that strength for selfish reasons. She would have to do a world of changing for anyone to accept her here. It would be a hard sell.”
Kenn took the warning to heart, but didn’t say anything more on the subject.
Adrian stood up, scanning the lights, sights, and sounds of his people. A neatly organized camp, fires driving back the darkness, dogs yapping for dinner, echoes of doors closing, calm voices and steady footsteps. Normal as it got now. Kenn had done a good job.
“We’ll need to add safety glass to our lists. I don’t like how easily a flock of birds put us in danger,”
Kenn said what his boss was thinking. “Be too easy for a bullet.”
Adrian was more than pleased. Finally, some of the born help was here. “I’ll do rounds in about an hour. Wanna come along?”
“You know it.”
3
Adrian strode to his tent, eager to have a litt
le time to himself.
Kenn’s mind stayed on Tonya as he joined the dozen members setting up base around the huge bonfire. Many times his eyes had been drawn to the sullen woman, and he wondered where she was now, and who she was with.
Tonya was selfish, greedy, and a troublemaker, and he recognized her streak of meanness, but she was also strong, smart, and determined to have Adrian. The people here hated the idea, but Tonya was openly hostile to anyone who spoke against it. She had even earned a day of hard labor for a slapping contest with Big Billy, a three hundred pound schoolteacher from Oregon. She had won, hands down. Tonya wasn’t afraid of anything, and that had earned Kenn’s respect, something women didn’t get much of from him.
Kenn responded politely to the greetings and congratulations of those around the flames that the cold wind was teasing, but he stood by himself. He hoped this fuel trip would secure his place in Adrian’s chain of command. Kyle and Neil were tied for second, with Doug in third, but in Kenn’s selfish mind, they weren’t Marines.
Kenn didn’t think it would take long to get what he wanted, just more hard work. No one openly held the XO position here and he’d found himself longing for it. Then the birds had come and helped him.
Kenn passed on the bottles and joints going around the fire as the wind blew a fresh chill over them, noticing the lantern was out in the tent he shared with Charlie. Good. As Kenn grew closer to Adrian, the time he spent around the teenager reminded him more and more of the secrets he was keeping, of how unworthy he was to hold the place at Adrian’s side.
Kenn stared moodily into the dark, unable to pick out any of the surrounding mountains. His mind returned to Tonya, wondering if a redhead was slipping into a blond man’s tent right now. She wanted Adrian in a way that was almost an obsession. His name was always on her pouty lips, and Kenn felt a sharp connection with her because of it. There was just something about the man that silently seduced. Not that it was a sexual thing for Kenn. He didn’t consider himself a closet-case. He just needed to be near Adrian and the authority he represented.
