Through Many Fires (Strengthen What Remains)

by Kyle Pratt

  Turning to his father he asked, “Why didn’t you travel back the way you went, along the North Road?”

  “At first I did, but after the blast it became a big parking lot. Nobody was moving except for some guys on motor cycles. Someone tried to steal a bike and got shot and that led to more fighting and shooting. I got off that road when I could and headed toward the freeway, but even on the back roads the going was slow. It took us the rest of the day and most of the night to get to the outskirts of Olympia.

  “It was late at night…early in the morning really, when we reached the Nisqually River outside of Yelm. Troops had set up a check point at the bridge to keep people from going north toward the red zone….”

  “People were trying to get in?” Then Caden recalled the night of the Washington D.C. blast and how some people headed into the city.

  His father nodded. “I had set out for Tacoma earlier that day and would have gone even after the blast. Anyway, at the check point, troops had set up a field hospital. Sue was feeling nauseous and I was concerned because we had been close to the blast.”

  “Were you exposed? Are you sick?” Caden asked.

  “No I’m fine, not ill.”

  Satisfied that there was no immediate problem, Caden said to his father, “What happened? Why did it take so long to get this far?”

  “When we stopped at the med station, I got out a gas can and filled the tank. Later, when we came out, the truck started and then died. Someone had punctured the gas tank and drained it.”

  “I’m surprised you couldn’t fix a puncture hole.”

  “I could patch it, but where would I get more gas? By that time you couldn’t buy any, so we walked.”

  They continued talking until they reached the Hansen blockade. Caden and his driver got out of the car and walked up to the guards. “We have three trucks of supplies and a fueler,” Caden said.

  “You got food in those trucks?” one of the men on the barricade asked.

  “We sure do,” the driver replied.

  Caden had his men pass out one MRE for each guard on duty. Everyone seemed happy.

  When the last truck was safe behind the barricade Caden told the senior man, “I’m going to take my family home. Go to the armory and unload the Ammo, communications gear and the first truck of MREs. We’ll distribute the remainder to the town and refugee camp in the morning after I arrive.”

  “Yes sir,” the soldier replied and soon the convoy was moving along the road.

  Ten minutes later Caden’s SUV rumbled up the long dirt driveway to the farmhouse. Maria and Lisa stepped out on the porch as he slowed to a stop. Trevor stepped from the car first.

  “Mom,” Lisa yelled, “come here you’ve got to see this.” Then she leapt from the porch into her father’s arms.

  Walking out the front door his mother stifled a scream and nearly fell down the steps as she joined Lisa in hugging Trevor. Then Sue emerged from the car and the excitement spread.

  Caden walked over to Maria and hugged her then stood with his arm resting on her shoulder while the three others got reacquainted and came to terms with the fact that Peter was not with them.

  After several minutes of hugs and tears, Trevor explained to his wife and daughter how he had no chance to find Peter before the nuclear bomb went off.

  His mother comforted Sue and the two consoled one another about Peter. Finally his mother looked down and gently touched Sue’s belly. “Is the baby all right?”

  “The baby is fine, but I’m exhausted.”

  “Baby?” Caden asked.

  “I’m pregnant,” Sue replied.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  They talked long into the night, swapping stories of their journeys and of Peter. Caden again told how he found Adam at the wreck along the highway where his mother died, that thieves later threatened them and Maria came to their rescue. His father told of driving up North Road and arriving at Peter and Sue’s home.

  “He found me in the corner of the bedroom with a pistol,” Sue said. “Peter told me Trevor was coming, but it was a good thing he called out to me. I was really scared because everyone was leaving, and there were sirens, reports of looting and the sound of gunshots.”

  “We were barely out of the house when we saw the mushroom cloud,” his dad added.

  “My head was bouncing off an airplane fuselage at that moment,” Caden said.

  “Did you leave a dent in it,” Lisa asked.

  With a smile he replied, “Should I tell Dad how you shot me?”

  Lisa threw a cushion at him.

  “You shot him?” his dad asked Lisa.

  His mother and Maria laughed as Trevor looked from face to face for an answer.

  Caden couldn’t recall what time he went to bed, but when the old wind-up alarm clock rang to life he moaned and slapped at it. Sitting up he hoped for an easy day.

  He followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen, and found Maria warming a baby bottle on one side of a camp stove.

  “You want breakfast? I think I can do eggs and pancakes on this thing.”

  “Black coffee would be great.”

  After two cups he felt alive enough to eat. “Eggs might be good.”

  “Coming up.” She cracked an egg on the edge of the green camp stove. “You look awful,”

  “Thanks. I’m just tired,” he said with a yawn. Hopefully today will go smoothly.” After eating he stood, stretched and headed back to the bedroom to put on his uniform.

  Maria was waiting at the foot of the stairs with a bag as he came down. “I made you lunch.”

  He smiled. They kissed and he headed off to the armory wondering how he could feel so married, but not be. He was still smiling as he reached the main road. He expected that there would be no other cars during his short commute however, he gradually became aware of an unusual number of people. Some were talking, others walking, but all of them seemed to point or stare at him. Don’t get paranoid. They’re curious because you’re driving a car and in uniform.

  Nearing the city limits he passed clusters of people going in his direction. Where are they were all headed so early in the morning? A police car sped by with sirens blazing and turned up the hill toward the armory. Ahead another crowd walked briskly up the same road. He pressed down on the accelerator.

  What’s going on? He glanced at thirty to forty people on both sides of the road. Some ran up the hill. Why are they all headed toward the armory? He was tempted to stop and ask, but their faces were gaunt, desperate and fearful. Get there and then assess the situation. As the chain link fence came into view, so did fifty or sixty people clustered around the gate.

  As he neared, he was forced to slow down to avoid hitting several individuals in the street. Soldiers at the gate, guns at the ready, ordered the crowd back. Most of them moved to the side of the road, but some of the men waited until the last possible moment.

  As he passed through the crowd a man yelled, “Are you going to share the food? We’re hungry too.”

  “We’re all hungry. How come you get to eat?”

  “My children are….”

  Something banged on the car and the voices rumbled into a chaotic chorus of despair.

  Caden breathed a sigh of relief as he passed through the gate. He quickly parked, exited the car and slammed the door behind him. Marching across the parking lot he saw Lieutenant Brooks and Sheriff Hoover coming toward him. Caden changed direction and the three converged in the middle of the parking lot. As Caden neared his XO he glared. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I did sir, but you had already left,” Brooks said. “Then I called the Sheriff.”

  “I just got here a minute ago myself,” Hoover added.

  “Okay,” Caden said taking a deep breath. “How did they all find out about the food?”

  “What I’ve been able to figure out sir is that when the convoy went through the blockade someone told the guards about the MREs and gave them some.”

  Caden shook his head i
n frustration. Apparently the guards had told family and friends, and word of the supplies had spread quickly through town. “I didn’t think we needed to keep it secret. I thought everyone would be happy we had food.”

  Hoover chuckled. “They’re glad you have it because now they know where they can get it.”

  “I plan on sharing a lot of the supply. That’s why I got as much as I could.”

  “I was sure that was your idea.” Hoover gestured toward the fence, “They’re not sure, but they are hungry.”

  Caden frowned in worry. “We need to distribute the food this morning. I want to do it in an orderly manner and I don’t want to issue it from the armory. Are the supplies secured?”

  Brooks looked at the growing crowd. “Yes. For now. The ammo, gear, and meds you ordered to be unloaded have been locked up with our supplies. The MREs are in the mess. The rest of the food and fuel is still on the trucks in the depot.”

  “Where do you want to distribute the food from?” Hoover asked.

  “I’m going to let the LEPC decide that, but they need to make a quick decision.”

  “LEPC?” Brooks asked.

  Caden tried to remember. “Local…Emergency, ah, Planning…Council.”

  “Committee, I think?” Hoover grinned. “I’m supposed to be a member of that. I’ve been so busy trying to maintain law and order I haven’t attended any meetings, but I know the members. I’ll make a few calls.”

  Caden nodded and then said, “Make sure your deputies and their families get fed and bring your patrol cars up here later and we’ll fill their tanks.”

  When the sheriff stepped away, Caden turned to Brooks. “I want you and Hoover to handle security for the food distribution in Hansen. I have another job I need to take care of.”

  An hour later two trucks rolled out of the armory. One headed for the high school with Sheriff Hoover and several deputies escorting. The other truck proceeded to the Salvation Army church on the opposite side of town with Lieutenant Brooks and a squad of soldiers accompanying. Hoover used a bullhorn to tell the crowd where the food distribution would take place.

  After the last of the hungry throng headed down the hill, four other vehicles departed. A supply truck and a fueler led by a Humvee, and followed by a dark blue SUV, made their way to the blockade on North Road. The small convoy parked on the hill overlooking the camp. Caden stepped from the car and proceeded down the hill toward the blockade. He was pleased to see the large green tent of the field hospital at the edge of the refugee camp and seeing soldiers and civilians walk back and forth across the bridge, he breathed a sigh of relief. The barricade was still in place, but clearly tensions had eased since his last visit.

  As he reached the bottom of the path the squad leader came up and saluted. “Can I help you with something, sir?”

  “Yes, sergeant, I’d like to speak with the leaders of the refugee camp.”

  “Yes, sir. Come with me. The area around the med tent has become a meeting place. They should be near there or we can ask the doctor.”

  With the squad leader, Caden proceeded to the bulldozer and sandbag barricade. There the sergeant ordered two more soldiers to follow them as they continued across the bridge to the field hospital.

  Beyond the medical tent was a sea of cars and people. Smoke rose into the gray February sky from several fires. He recalled that this was a park, complete with a ball field. Just above the people, cars and campers he could see the top of the backstop. The grass that should have covered the area had been trampled into the cold earth until all that remained was brown dirt and mud. Those around him moved with a listlessness that reminded him of old zombie movies. The scene was complete with dirty gray clothes and blank expressions, but he knew that it was not some life sucking disease; hunger was killing these people. He scanned the crowd once again looking for a familiar face, then turned toward the tent.

  Neil Young, the big man he had meet on the bridge two days earlier, stood before him. “Well Caden, have you come to see how we are doing?”

  “Actually, I’m looking for you.”

  Caden considered the crowd of desperate faces that encircled them. If I mention the word food here there could be a riot. “Is there any kind of formal leadership of this camp?”

  “Kind of informal, but yes, me and one other.”

  “I’d like to meet with both of you back on the other side of the barricade as soon as possible.”

  A murmuring crowd gathered as Caden and his soldiers headed back onto the bridge and toward the barricade. When he crossed over the sandbags Caden looked back at a growing crowd around the med tent. A couple of minutes later the mob surged forward behind Neil.

  This could get ugly--fast.

  The soldiers on either side of him fidgeted with their weapons.

  About halfway across the bridge, Neil stopped. “Everyone please listen. I have no idea what the army wants to talk with us about, but if you continue toward the barricade someone could get shot. Please wait here and I promise I’ll tell you what is going on.”

  Caden sighed with relief as Neil and a woman continued toward the barrier alone.

  Once on the other side of the blockade, Neil introduced Theresa and asked, “What did you need to talk about?”

  “I’ve got a truck full of food and another with gasoline up on the hill.”

  Their expressions brightened immediately.

  “I’m going to use the food and fuel to clear this camp.”

  Theresa frowned. “Who are you to decide how food gets distributed?”

  Caden ignored the question. “If you stay in this camp you will die. The town cannot support any more refugees and there is only enough food in the truck for a day. Eat the food and use the gas to get to a better place, either back home or to the FEMA camp.”

  “How do we know the FEMA camp will be better?” she asked.

  Caden glanced over the barricade. The crowd moved forward like a slow motion mob. “I’m told that food is tightly rationed at the camp, but there is food. You’re starving to death here.”

  Theresa and Neil nodded. “How do you propose to do this distribution?” he asked.

  The entire squad now stood behind the sandbags with rifles ready.

  After more discussion the three of them shook hands and climbed onto the treads of the dozer. Caden held up his hand, signaling for quiet. “We will distribute food and fuel from the north end of the camp.” There was an audible gasp at the mention of food and word was quickly, and loudly, relayed to those out of earshot. For many seconds Caden could not continue because of the crowd noise. Again he signaled for quiet. “We will provide one meal per person and five gallons of gas for each car with the stipulation that you leave this place. You can return home or go to the FEMA camp south of Longview.”

  It was dark before Caden returned to the armory and plopped exhausted into his office chair. He rubbed his throbbing leg as he thought of the hundreds of people who left the area, and those who remained. A few stayed because their cars wouldn’t start, others remained because of sick family members either in the town hospital or the field station. The doctor remained behind to treat them and Neil helped fix cars. I’ll keep the blockade in place, but we can use the road now and check out the old coal power plant. Resting his head in his hands he continued to think about all that had transpired when there was a knock at the door. “Come.”

  Brooks stepped in holding two cups of coffee. He handed a cup to Caden and sat down. “It’s been a long day, but I think a good one. All the food that we took into town was distributed and, I think, eaten on the spot.”

  Caden took a long slow drink. “Yeah, that’s what happened at the refugee camp too. North Road should be clear by tomorrow. Send a squad out to the coal power plant and start looking for people who can operate it. Offer the civilians food, medicine, protection, whatever it takes to get the plant running.”

  “Do we have enough food and medicine to be spreading it around?”

  “No, but I�
��ll work on that. You just get the plant running, if it’s possible.”

  “I’ll send the men out in the morning.”

  The next evening as the sun bent low over the hills west of Hansen, Caden sat at his desk. Dark shadows spread across the room and instinctively he turned the knob of the lamp on his desk. He was surprised by the glow of the lamp. We have power! Good. For a moment he wondered if the men out at the coal plant had it running. Brooks had led a squad out at first light and later in the day brought out several civilians who had worked in the plant, but it was too early for them to have it up and running. He scribbled a reminder to get a progress report on Monday.

  He picked up the next paper that required his attention. I had hoped for a slow day yesterday and received it today. He grinned. The tedium of paperwork is a nice change.

  There was a knock at the door. “Come,” he called, still reading.

  “You’re late for supper.”

  Startled at the sound of Maria’s voice, he looked up and grinned at the sight of her leaning against the doorframe holding a basket. “What have you got there?”

  “Let’s see,” she said and pulled out a bottle. “Blackberry wine, made right here in town.”

  “Nice.”

  “I’ve also got bread, butter, cheese and crackers. Now all I need is someone to help me eat them.”

  “I think I can assist you with that.” Caden stood and moved toward Maria, but as he did he could see the staff in the outer office. “Let’s find somewhere private.” As they stepped into the hallway, Brooks and Lisa approached. “Let me guess,” Caden whispered to Maria. “This was Lisa’s idea.”

  “She might have mentioned it, but I didn’t object.”

  “Lieutenant Brooks,” Caden said as they passed, “I’m going to have dinner with this lovely young lady. Keep an eye on things for the next hour or so.”

  “Yes, sir.”