"Hearing news like that leads me to believe it may be a long while before things straighten out," Robert said. "It'll take a long time to replace all those people who disappear. It won’t be so simple as flicking a switch to get the lights back on and the government up and running."
“Then there’s the looting,” Arthur said. “If a lot of public buildings are damaged, it will take a long time to get the secondary governmental operations back into play. You may have a working congress but not a working VA or IRS.”
Robert glanced at the pilot. "Not to be nosy, Chuck, but what are your plans?" Are you returning to the snake pit? The way Kevin describes it, I’d be pretty hesitant to go back there."
Chuck laughed. "No, I’ve got to get back. I'm still on the clock. This was a little side jaunt. I need to get back before somebody notices that bird missing."
"You’re on the clock? People are still working in DC?" Arthur asked.
"Oh yeah, people are working," Kevin said. "The pay makes private contractor pay in the Middle East look paltry too."
"So people are still getting paid?" Robert asked. "I assumed the banks were probably shut down like everything else."
Chuck and Kevin exchanged a look. "In our line of work getting paid has never been as simple as a direct deposit into your banking account. Sometimes it goes into foreign accounts and makes a few hops before it finally lands in a place you can spend it," Chuck explained. “Other times payment is in hard goods rather than money.”
"Right now there's such a shortage of security professionals that you can pretty much name your currency," Kevin said. "People are being paid in MREs, ammunition, weapons, and even fuel. Others are using crypto currencies like Bitcoin or even gold coins."
Chuck nodded. "We can name our own price if we’re willing to stay.”
"I hope you stuck it to Kevin here pretty good," Arthur laughed.
"No, Kevin and I go way back,” Chuck said. “We’ve worked together on a lot of jobs. This was a charity run."
"It's a shame my daughter and I have all these vehicles and gear," Robert said. "Sure would be nice to have you drop us off when you fly over home."
Kevin shrugged and looked at the pilot. "Yeah, we can't do anything with truckloads of gear," he said. "Dropping you off wouldn't be any trouble at all though, as long as it’s not too far out of the way."
"We have horses too," Grace said. “I’m not sure how they’d feel about flying.”
"Pretty sure that horses and choppers don’t mix unless the horses are highly sedated," Chuck said.
Robert was still working the idea around in his head. "You know, I'm not sure Sonyea is even well enough to travel. She’s still healing and we could be here another couple of days. What do you think of the idea of you and Tom going ahead of us, Grace? Chuck could drop you off close to home if he’s agreeable to that."
"Is that possible?" Grace asked. She looked at Chuck. "You could do that?"
"If you've got a decent landing zone it's no trouble at all."
"Tom uses a standup track chair," Grace said. "Can you transport that?"
"Not a problem," Chuck said. "That’s a UH-60. It can handle it."
"The chopper is equipped with a rescue hoist," Kevin said. “He can hoist the chair in and out.”
"I guess we need to ask Tom if he's willing to leave his mother in my hands," Robert asked.
"Not necessarily. I could go on alone," Grace said. "I can take care of myself."
"I know you can," Robert said. "But I'd feel more comfortable if you had some backup. No use doing anything alone if you don’t have to."
"When are you leaving, Chuck?" Grace asked.
Chuck looked at his watch. "Probably in about thirty minutes. There are some things I need to do."
Grace looked at her dad. "I guess I need to get on the ball then. I’ll go talk to Tom and see where his head is on this. Then I need to get my gear together."
"Chuck, I appreciate you doing this," Robert said. "My wife is recovering from surgery. I left her with a friend looking in on her, but she's not back on her feet yet. I was pretty worried about leaving her alone."
"No worries," Chuck said. "Somebody meet me at the chopper in thirty minutes and let me know the game plan."
Chapter Six
Arthur Bridges’ Compound
Tom had no initial reaction when presented with the idea. He received the information in the stoic manner of someone used to receiving serious news. While Grace tended toward thinking and processing things out loud, Tom liked to weigh consequences internally before reacting.
Grace was beginning to understand the man a little. When she looked in his eyes she could tell he was torn between his duty to his mother and his concern for her. She wasn’t intentionally trying to put him in a situation where he had to choose one of them over the other. The situation was what it was and he would have to figure out what he was doing to do. She couldn’t make that decision for him.
Robert accompanied Grace to speak to Tom, wanting to offer his assurance that his mother would be in good hands.
"I know you’ll take good care of her," Tom said. "I like the idea of her being able to remain under a doctor's care for a few more days. Are you sure you can manage to get all this gear back to your place? I'm not sure if my mom will be up to driving."
"She'll be fine. If she’s up to it, I'll let her drive my Jeep. I'll drive Grace’s truck and pull the trailer with your horses and gear. If she’s not feeling up to it, I’ll leave the jeep here to pick up later. No worries.”
Tom nodded, processing the information, struggling to make the right call. "It’s funny how this would've been no big deal two weeks ago. We could have called each other. Now, with no communication, everything is a bigger deal. Decisions have to be something you can live with because you can't change your plan midstream."
"That’s the way the world has been for most of its existence. It’s only recently we got spoiled with technology,” Robert said. “But if you all take the chopper, you'll probably have access to my ham setup a couple of hours after you leave. The frequency for reaching this compound is written down on a notepad. You’ll be able to call back and let me know you guys are safe."
"That doesn't help us if you run into trouble on the road," Tom said. “How are you going to call for help?”
"Trust me, I know that. That's exactly what I've been going through with Grace on the road. You just have to trust that people make good decisions."
While Tom mulled it over, Grace began to process the situation from her parents’ point of view. She understood what it must have been like for them to not know where she was or what she was doing. Sure, they got an update on Facebook from Chin's place, and there also been a few updates from Sonyea’s ham operator neighbor. But the voids—the gaps when they weren't getting any information– must have been agonizing.
"I still think it's the best plan," Robert said. "We make sure your mom gets a couple more days of professional medical care just in case there's any complications and you guys get expedited travel. Then my wife is going to be in better hands that much sooner and that's one less thing I have to worry about. The only thing this leaves hanging out there is your mom and I on the road. I'm prepared for that."
Tom nodded. “I’ll go.”
With his agreement, the morning kicked into turbo. The laid-back pace of waking in the secure compound came to an end and Grace and Tom began the hurried process of packing gear for the chopper ride out. Grace did a quick check to make sure her Go Bag was fully stocked. She replaced all of the items that she’d used or taken out over the last week from the spares her dad brought.
He’d brought a zippered duffel bag with the spare gear in it and she used that to carry all her gear. She crammed her Go Bag into the cavernous duffel, along with some extra clothes, spare magazines for her weapons, and some extra boxes of ammo. When she had her gear packed she dumped it by the chopper and went to help Tom.
Before they left Sonyea’s farm,
Tom threw together a Go Bag for himself. He did the same thing Grace had done, making a brief run through of the bag to make sure he had everything he might need due to the change in plans. While they expected to be safe at Grace’s home in a couple of hours, they knew they couldn’t depend on that. They needed the gear to live out of their Go Bags for a couple of days if it came to that. Plans were constantly changing, expectations constantly shifting.
Tom packed as much extra ammo and weaponry as he could fit in his bag. Robert and Grace helped him carry his gear to the LZ. Besides his Go Bag, he had thick black something rolled under his arm.
“What’s that?” Robert asked.
“Flexible solar panel,” Tom replied. “The track chair is capable of ten miles, depending on the terrain. I can squeeze a little more range out of it if I can charge the batteries on the go.”
When they had a small pile of gear beside the chopper, Grace and Tom went to say goodbye to Sonyea. Even though they expected to see her again in a couple of days, no goodbye in this new world was inconsequential. You never knew when the next reunion would be, or even if it would occur at all. There were simply too many ways to die. Too many things that could go wrong.
“Mom, I’ll see you in a few days,” Tom said.
“I know,” Sonyea replied. “Everything will be fine.”
It was apparent that neither Tom nor Sonyea was the type for long, drawn out goodbyes. They exchanged a few more words and Tom gave his mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Sonyea, I’ll check back in on you in a little bit,” Robert said, and followed Tom and Grace from the room out to the helicopter, where Chuck was already pitching their gear on board.
“Should we keep weapons handy or do you want them stowed?” Grace asked. “Did you run into any trouble on the way down here?”
Robert was impressed Grace asked this question. It was yet another reminder that his daughter was a capable and forward-thinking young lady.
“No hostiles,” the pilot said. “I’m fine with you keeping your weapons handy, just make sure you don’t shoot a hole in my chopper. This is an expensive bird.”
Grace slid into the back of the chopper and her dad handed in the last of the gear. Grace placed the bags where the pilot directed her. When Tom positioned his chair beneath the hoist, preparing to enter the helicopter, Robert went to help him.
“No, Dad,” Grace said. “He’s got it.”
Robert backed away. “Sorry, Tom. I should’ve asked. It was reflex.”
“No big deal,” Tom said.
Tom finished maneuvering the chair, deftly swinging himself into the chopper. Initially, Grace had behaved just as Robert had, thinking Tom needed her help. Tom needed no one’s help though. Sonyea had raised an independent son and he was still independent.
Chuck hoisted the track chair into the helicopter. “If everyone’s ready to boogie, we’ll get the hell out of here.”
Grace went to her dad one last time and wrapped her arms around him. She squeezed him tightly.
“I love you, Grace,” Robert said.
“I love you too, Dad.”
“I’m so proud of you. Be careful. Be safe. Look after your mom, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Grace started to say more, but she felt herself tearing up. She’d done well on her own but it didn’t mean that she didn’t feel like she needed her dad. He seemed so much better at these things. He seemed always to have the answer, to always know what to do in the worst situation. She wiped the tears away and nodded. She released her dad and the pilot pointed her to a chair. She sat down and began strapping in.
Robert extended a hand to Tom. “Take care of my little girl,” he said, a little choked up himself.
“I’m not sure who took care of whom,” Tom said. “You raised a tough girl.”
Robert couldn’t respond. He nodded teary-eyed at Tom, finished the handshake, and moved to the pilot, who was strapping himself into his seat.
“Chuck, I can’t thank you enough for this.”
“Glad I could help,” Chuck replied. “May need a favor from you one day too.”
“You got it. Safe travels,” Robert said. He backed away from the chopper, giving a parting wave.
The pilot closed the door and gestured to headsets hanging near their seats, and Tom and Grace each slipped a pair onto their head. Grace struggled to catch a glimpse of her dad as the sound of the powerful engines increased. She could feel the vibration throughout her entire body.
The rotor speed increased and shortly she felt the tenuous grip of the Earth let loose and the helicopter began to rise. She craned her neck and saw her dad below, shielding his eyes with one hand and waving with the other. She raised a hand to him, although she knew he couldn’t see her. She looked back to Tom and found him watching her.
Despite the fact that she was prepared for this trip, despite knowing this was what she needed to do, she felt a moment of vulnerability. Tom sensed it and extended a hand to her and she took it. In her acceptance of his outstretched hand she felt a change. Nothing in her world would ever be the same again. Not her, not her relationship with her parents, not her future, and not her relationship with Tom.
Chapter Seven
En Route to Damascus, VA
“That’s the Great Smoky Mountains we’re passing over,” Chuck said.
Grace had been to the Smokies several times. While she had hiked there with her mom and dad and little brother, she’d never seen them from this perspective. From the sky they appeared so organic—multicolored, rippled, and convoluted, with pockets of mist lingering in dark recesses.
“They’re beautiful,” Grace said. The word seemed so inconsequential, a poor attempt to describe the beauty she was seeing.
With the speed of the chopper, they were out of the area quickly and over the lesser, but still beautiful mountains of western North Carolina.
The rest of the trip over North Carolina was not quite so dramatic as the majesty of the Smokies. Still, it was a beautiful state. The mountains were only slightly less magnificent than what they had just seen, densely forested and green. Grace’s family lived so close to North Carolina that they been there often. The state line was only fifteen minutes from their home. Her parents had told her to the point of nausea how they honeymooned in nearby Asheville.
“We’re approaching the Virginia state line,” Chuck said over the comms. “It should only be a few more minutes.”
“Find Damascus first,” Grace said. “From there I can use the road to guide you to a landing spot.”
“Your dad said there was a place in town we could land.”
“There should be several options right there in town,” Grace said.
“That Damascus?” Chuck asked, gesturing ahead and to the right.
Grace strained against her seatbelt to see where he was pointing. Ahead, the small town was barely visible. Few things protruded above the thick trees. Had they been moving faster, or even just been a few miles off course, the town would have been completely swallowed by the mountains.
“Can you slow down a little so I can orient myself?” Grace asked.
“Sure.”
The pilot guided the chopper to what appeared to be the largest structure in the densely wooded community. Though he didn’t know the town, it seemed obvious that this would give Grace the best chance of figuring out where she was. As they neared the towering church steeple, they overflew the town park.
“Shit, what’s going on down there? That’s the biggest cluster of people I’ve seen outside of a FEMA camp,” Chuck said.
Grace and Tom struggled to see beneath them to the big grassy field where the town hosted festivals and events. It was where kids came to swing and old people came to walk their dogs. It also served as a launching point for those making day trips on the Virginia Creeper Trail or heading out for hikes on the Appalachian Trail.
Now the field was packed with small tents and outstretched tarps. Smoke rose from numerous campfir
es. There were clusters of people sitting on the ground, stretched out in the sun, or standing in circles. It indeed looked like a refugee camp.
“They look like hikers,” Grace said. “The Appalachian Trail passes right by here.”
“Maybe with all the shit going on they decided to get off the trail,” Tom said.
Grace nodded. “Could be. They look like through-hikers. Most of those are solo tents.”
When Grace leaned to get a glimpse out the window she caught a flash of light from the ground. Almost immediately she heard the pinging sound beneath her feet.
“What the…?” Chuck said.
“Incoming! Incoming! We’re taking fire!” Tom barked.
The pilot reacted instantly, banking the aircraft sharply. Grace felt herself being pulled against the straps of her seatbelt. The G-forces were so intense that she was glad she was buckled in. Had she not been, she would be bouncing around the interior of the chopper like a pinball. There were more flashes from the ground but they were out of range.
“Shit, I didn’t expect that,” Chuck said. “I was expecting a bunch of hippies playing hacky sack and smoking weed.”
“These hippies had guns,” Tom pointed out. “We’re going to need to find a new place to land.”
Chuck was silent, studying his display panel intently.
“Chuck?” Grace asked. “What is it?”
“It will have to be close,” he said. “My fuel calculations are tight up against the range of this chopper. I don’t have any planned refueling stops along the way. What I’ve got is what I’ve got. I can’t burn up fuel cruising around looking for a new landing zone. I’m not trying to be a jerk, but it is what it is. We need to be on the ground in about sixty seconds or I’m screwed.”
“I understand,” Grace said. She looked at Tom, anxiety straining her face.
“It’ll be okay,” Tom assured her.
“Any sports fields?” Chuck asked.
Grace Under Fire Page 4
