Through Many Fires (Strengthen What Remains)

by Kyle Pratt

  Caden flashed his ID. “Who is the commanding officer and where are they?”

  “Lieutenant Brooks. His office is on the second floor. I don’t know the room number.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll find it.” They exchanged salutes and Caden pulled into a nearby parking lot. He glanced back at the guard who was on the phone. He knew he would not have to find Brooks, the lieutenant would come to find out why a major had arrived. Using his cane, he walked as casual as possible, for a man with a limp, toward the building.

  Several kids ran over to him.

  “My dad is in the Army.”

  “What’s wrong with your leg?”

  “Do you have a gun?”

  “When can we go home?”

  Just like the kids at the refugee camps. No. He glanced at the growing number of children around him. These kids are more…bouncy and none have asked me for food. Well, as yet anyway.

  Only as he approached did he notice the keypad beside the main door. Do the kids know the entry code? Before he could ask, a young second lieutenant exited, popped to attention, and saluted.

  “I’m Lieutenant Brooks. How can I help you sir?”

  Caden returned the salute and looked him up and down. Other than the rank insignia at the center of his chest, and the unit badge, there was little else in the way of ribbons or insignia. However, he wore a pistol on his hip.

  The lieutenant stood about as tall as Caden and had close-cut blond hair. I’m young, but this guy is a kid, probably fresh out of some college ROTC program. “I’m Major Westmore, here to assume command. Let’s go to the office.”

  Brooks seemed tense as he turned to open the door.

  On the upper floor a small office served as headquarters for Bravo Company, the unit stationed at the armory. To his left several motivational prints hung on the wall, while the right featured recruiting posters, a picture of Governor Monroe and Adjutant General Harwich, the head of the Washington Guard, along with random thumb tacks that no one had bothered to remove. In the corner a radio played the numbing drumbeat of emergency announcements. Beside it was a SINCGARS army transceiver that was on and a shortwave radio that was turned off. Caden stopped and talked briefly with the four soldiers in the room.

  The next space was a mid-sized conference room. One wall was covered in a large map of southwest Washington and on another were smaller maps of Hansen, the county and the state. A large table and chairs filled the center. In many ways both rooms were much like any of the hundreds of other military offices Caden had been in, old and in need of fresh paint, but it would serve as a decent command center.

  Two open doors led to offices, but Brooks stopped, “Perhaps this would be a good place to begin the transition.”

  Caden handed him the written orders.

  Brooks read them, came to attention and said. “What are your orders, sir?”

  “I’ll need a detailed report on the company’s personnel and equipment status. When that is ready we can bring in the other senior personnel, but for right now I’d like a briefing from you.

  “Senior personnel, well,” he sighed, “that’s a good place to start. Other than First Sergeant Fletcher there are no senior personnel. We’re shorthanded, about half-strength at fifty-two soldiers.”

  Well, that’s the brief on personnel. Not so good. “Why do we have children and civilians here?”

  “I know it is against regulations, but many of the soldiers were worried about their families. I was the only officer here; I don’t know where the commander is….”

  “He’s dead.”

  “Oh.” His eyes went wide and he took a slow deep breath. “Do you know when or how, sir?”

  Caden told him what he knew.

  “About the civilians…well, most of our soldiers live outside Hansen, some as far away as Seattle. I authorized them to move their families here if they feared for their safety. Most chose to do so.”

  “Good call.”

  “Really?”

  Caden smiled. “Really. Any soldier worried about his family isn’t giving us his best.” In jest he asked, “Have you broken any other regulations?”

  The tension returned to Brook’s face. “After the Los Angles bombing refugees came down all the roads from Seattle.” His eyes seemed to stare off in the distance for a moment. “We took a soldier, injured in a car accident, to the hospital. While we were there three armed looters attacked the pharmacy. The drugstore in town had already robbed. I’m sure these three were addicts looking for a fix.” He sighed. “They pulled guns on the staff and started shooting. I returned fire and…well…I killed all three.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Fifteen minutes later, as he inspected the gun vault with Brooks, Caden was still wondering how many people had died, and who really shot them. Looters and drug addicts looking for a fix, what should they have done? Arrest them; feed them while law-abiding citizens go hungry?

  “Sixty-eight M4s and ten M9s,” Brooks said with a gesture along the vault wall.

  These are awful times. Hoover and Brooks have made difficult choices. How many are alive because they made those decisions? The faces of the people he had known and who were now dead lingered in his mind. So many have died, perhaps even Dad, Peter and Susan.

  “And over here are the night vision….”

  “Why are there so many empty slots?” Caden asked pointing to one row of M4 rifles.

  “Two squads are deployed at the moment and one is on alert and, ah, I loaned seven to the sheriff’s office.” Brooks stood stiffly as if at attention. “I take full responsibility. I know there are all sorts of regulations that prohibit….”

  “I assume he came and asked for them.”

  “Yes sir. It was when the looting began we…he…all of us really…we were trying to keep order and….”

  “You’ve done paperwork and logged the serial numbers, of course.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Caden nodded thoughtfully. “I’m sure it was the right thing to do.”

  Relief flowed across the young lieutenant’s face as he stood at ease.

  “I’m going to need an M9. How many rounds of ammo do we have?”

  Brooks handed Caden a pistol and holster. “I’d have to look up the exact numbers, but we have less than I’d like. We returned from field exercises a month ago and had not been resupplied when the terrorist attacks began.”

  Caden strapped on the holster as they exited the vault.

  Brooks said, “I’ll show you the rest of the facility. This way sir.”

  “My name is Caden, at least when we’re alone.”

  “Thank you sir, my name is David.”

  Passing through the lobby, Caden noticed a cross carved in the stone wall and recalled that the building had been a religious school of some kind fifty or sixty years earlier. In one wing, a large room now served as a barracks. Storerooms and offices had been cleared and married soldiers assigned individual rooms. Clearly his XO had been a busy officer.

  In the basement David showed him an ancient coal furnace with no coal and a modern backup generator that was low on diesel fuel.

  Ammo, food and fuel. He sighed inwardly. I need to get more of just about everything. Fumbling in his jacket he pulled out a small notebook and wrote several notes to himself.

  As they walked back toward their office, Brooks suddenly turned to his left and opened one side of a double door. “We can cut across the gym. It’s shorter.”

  Walking into the large room, the sound of their footsteps echoed off the old hardwood floor and bounced off the wooden walls and bleachers. Large windows high above on one side provided light that cast the old gymnasium in a yellow glow.

  “Assemble the men in…” Caden glanced at his watch. Almost noon. “one hour, 1300. We’ll do the change of command and I’ll speak to the soldiers at that time.”

  When they arrived at the office, Brooks sent two privates to make preparations for the assembly.

  “Where is the first ser
geant?” Caden asked, “I’d like to talk with him before the change of command.”

  “He’s with second squad guarding the North Road Bridge over the Cowlitz River.”

  Caden nodded. “You mentioned we had two squads out?”

  “Third squad is east of town along the highway. A few days ago we had four squads deployed guarding the north and east perimeter of the town, but things are quieter to the east.”

  “The north road isn’t secure?”

  “There is a large unofficial refugee camp just across the Cowlitz River Bridge.”

  “When you say large, what do you mean?”

  “I’d estimate a thousand individuals.”

  “I can understand us not wanting another thousand mouths to feed, but why don’t we let them pass through, maybe in small, manageable, groups?”

  “Most of them stopped there because they were either low on gas or out of it. They can’t go anywhere and now they’re out of food and getting desperate. I’ve seen fights, riots really, and heard gunshots but, thankfully we are able to keep those problems on the other side of the river.”

  “How?”

  “The river is running high and fast and the bridge is barricaded.”

  Caden nodded thinking of his father, brother and sister-in-law who were all on the wrong side of the river. When my leg is better I’m going to need to go up that road and try to find them. He continued to his office where he strained to concentrate on the reports and assess the readiness of his command. Not very ready. As he tried to come up with a plan, the lights went out.

  From the next office he heard David moan. “We have been experiencing more brown outs and power failures with each passing day.”

  Caden nodded to no one and continued to read by the light of a window behind him, but after a couple of minutes he gave up and leaned back in the chair. Even though it was barely afternoon, he was tired, his leg ached and the dim light strained his eyes. He stood and hobbled to the window. Gray clouds covered much of the sky casting the valley and town below in shadow.

  It’s going to be a long hard winter no matter what the weather is like. I’m fortunate to be home…to even have a home to go to. He thought of the people he had seen walking along the highways. At that moment he wanted desperately to be with his family at the farmhouse. He realized that once again he had included Maria and even little Adam in his mental image of family.

  A shiver passed through him. The farmhouse has a fireplace and woodstove, but how many don’t have that? Again he shivered. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but it already seemed cooler in the room. He reached out and touched an ancient radiator beside the window. It was cold. No coal for the boiler.

  Brooks stepped into the office holding two cups of coffee and handed one to Caden. “We might as well drink it while it is still hot.”

  “What causes the power to go out more each day?”

  Brooks shrugged.

  “Why doesn’t the backup generator come on when the main power goes out?”

  “We’re so short of fuel I’m only using it at night.”

  Caden nodded. All I need is more food, fuel, ammo and soldiers, and this command will be ready for anything. He grinned and Brooks gave him a quizzical look, but he ignored it and sipped his coffee.

  David did the same and then said, “I hope we can get people back home and get the economy moving. If we don’t and the power fails for a long period of time…well, just imagine, heat, communication, refrigeration, cooking, it’s all electric.”

  “If we don’t find or grow a lot more food in the next month or two most of us won’t need to worry about electricity.”

  Static crackled over the radio and Caden glanced that direction and then at the still dark lights.

  David smiled at his confusion. “The radio has battery backup.”

  They both returned to their coffee.

  Forty minutes later Caden stood in a darkened hallway still considering what to say. As he did he stared at the backs of those assembled in the gym. About forty soldiers stood in formation waiting for him to enter. Behind them were about ten civilians, mostly women, and about as many children. A podium stood at the far end with Brooks to the right of it.

  He took a deep breath and marched into the room.

  “Company, attention,” Brooks announced.

  “At ease,” Caden responded. As he walked up to the podium he still had only a vague idea of what he wanted to say. Give them a sense of purpose, a mission and direction.

  After reading his orders aloud, Caden scanned the faces of the assembled soldiers. Taking a deep breath he proceeded. “I was in Washington D.C. on that terrible day. I know the horror and the pain of loss that many of you have experienced.

  “I traveled with Governor Monroe back to Washington State. From the moment I met him he has been striving to solve problems brought on by the terrorist attacks. He is working hard to get people home and the economy up and running. Food and fuel are being distributed. Power is being…will be restored.

  “We are going to be a part of that process. The road ahead will not be easy, but each of us has a role in the restoration of this nation.”

  The lights blinked, came on for a moment then died. Caden sighed and continued. “Our orders are to assist local authorities in maintaining law and order and help provide aid. Together with Sherriff Hoover we are going to secure Hansen, the farms around it and outlying communities. The army already has secured the freeway. It is open to travel, both to the north and south. We are going to clear the state highway from Hansen to the on ramp so that the town can be supplied.” He looked up at the darkened ceiling, “The lights will come back on. The day will come when you can go home.”

  Looking out at those before him, Caden could see emotions ranging from hopefulness to despair.

  “Finally, Lieutenant Brooks has done an outstanding job. I concur with his decision to move families into the armory. We are going to keep our loved ones safe while we do our job.”

  A murmur of approval swept the gym.

  That seems like a good note to end this on. Caden stepped away from the podium and said, “Lieutenant Brooks, dismiss the men.” Walking quickly through the ranks of soldiers he exited the gym.

  From the hallway he heard, “Company attention. Dismissed.”

  Back at the office Caden sat staring out the window. He could barely detect the position of the sun through the gray clouds that cast the world in shadow. He felt the cold now on his nose and ears. A few snowflakes flitted through the air outside.

  “Excuse me sir.”

  It was Brooks’ voice. Still looking out the window Caden said, “Yes?”

  “I just wanted to say that I liked what you said, and not just the comment about me. I think it helped.”

  He smiled and turned to face Brooks. “Thanks. I hope it did.”

  The radio crackled and then a frightened, hurried voice was heard. “Company HQ this is second squad.” From the small speaker the sound of gunfire and metal scraping metal seemed to fill the room. “We’re under fire.”

  Chapter Twenty

  One of the privates in the office grabbed the mic. “Roger Second Squad, we read that you’re taking fire.” He looked to Brooks expectantly.

  Brooks turned to Caden. “Fourth squad is the duty rapid response unit.”

  “Deploy them.”

  While the private relayed word that help was coming, Brooks grabbed the mic for the building intercom then slammed it down apparently remembering the power was out. Pointing to a PFC he said, “Find Corporal Sanchez and have his team reinforce second squad.”

  Helmet in hand, Brooks headed for the door.

  “XO,” Caden said, “I’m coming with you.” Brooks started to protest, but he insisted. “I need to see the situation.”

  He nodded and left at a jog. Caden hobbled along behind cursing his throbbing leg and ankle. As they hustled out the building two Humvees sped out the gate.

  “Here,” Brooks called, “W
e’ll go in my truck.” He pointed to a red Ford pickup.

  Jogging toward it Caden said, “I didn’t figure you for a pickup kind of guy.”

  “It was abandoned and I thought it would be useful.”

  Sliding in Caden noticed a shotgun behind the seat.

  Brooks turned the key and the trucked lurched forward, shot out the gate, and down the hill. Then turning right he sped toward the fight.

  Caden had rarely driven out this way, but he knew they were only a minute or two from the bridge. “Isn’t there a power plant a few miles up the North Road?”

  “Yes, beyond the refugee camp, but it was closed last year. It’s a coal-fired plant and couldn’t meet the new environmental regulations.”

  “That’s right and the mine is next to it.”

  “The coal from that old pit is high in sulfur so they closed it down about five years ago. These last few years they brought coal in from out of state.”

  Caden thought for a moment. “I wonder if we could get the plant back up and running?”

  “We could try. That might solve our power problems.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. And is the city hydroelectric dam functioning?”

  “Just barely. We drive out with a couple of workers every other day to check on it.”

  He could hear shots now. Brooks pulled off on a simple dirt lane. Fifty yards up he stopped beside a green tent.

  Strapping the helmet to his head and staying low, Brooks moved forward. “We can see the bridge from over there.” He reached the position first and, picking up binoculars, he said, “Those civilians are either desperate or drunk.”

  Caden hobbled up to the sandbagged and camouflaged observation post a moment later. Borrowing the binoculars he looked down at the fire fight. It was clear what happened. Some of the refugees got a dump truck, sped it across the bridge and slammed it into the bulldozer the soldiers used to barricade the road. Apparently they hoped to smash through the blockade, but the dozer won. The front of the truck was crumpled and twisted. The bulldozer had been moved a foot or two or perhaps the soldiers had parked it at a slight angle, either way, it still blocked the bridge.