A New World: Return

by John O'Brien

  “What isn’t over, Dad?” Nic asks looking in the direction Lynn disappeared to as if seeing her through the bulkhead and really wanting her answer.

  “Never mind,” I say climbing wearily out of my seat with a heavy sigh.

  I know what I am proposing is the right thing to do. I know that Lynn is worried but I have done similar things in the past. Sneaking through guarded buildings in search of information, documents, or various other articles. I feel confident I can make it there or, at minimum, know when my route is being closed off behind me and get out before I am discovered. But I have not faced anything that can detect by scent or apparently see in the dark. At least I can match them for seeing in the dark, I think heading to the back of the aircraft.

  Walking outside to the light, gray concrete that covers the large area on which we are parked, I look for Robert and group, seeing them as they near a large hangar next to what appears to be a squadron or base operations building. They disappear around the corner. I see Lynn occupying herself by looking through our supplies but know that it is just busy work and she is merely biding her time for the right moment to continue our “conversation.”

  “I don’t see a fuel truck anywhere,” Robert’s voice calls in the radio I donned on exiting the aircraft.

  Our habit is to don our vests and radios anytime we venture outside, charging the radios off the aircraft electrical system when enroute. The Hercules has many nifty aspects to it like that. I turn to see Lynn now refilling and checking her mags along with the rest of the team members who accompanied her just a short time ago.

  “Okay, come on back. We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” I say to Robert before walking over to Lynn.

  “I heard,” she says in a brisk manner.

  “Want to talk,” I say looking down at her as she kneels at the back of the aircraft thumbing shells into an empty magazine.

  “Don’t you have an airplane to fly?” She asks looking up to the soft click of a shell being deposited.

  “We can stay here for the night,” I respond.

  “Okay,” Lynn says standing and putting the now full mag in one of the mag pouches on her tac vest.

  We inform the others that we are staying here for the night and for them to eat before darkness sets in. We then walk in silence a ways out onto the ramp so as to not be overheard. I glance quickly back over my shoulder to make sure everything is in order before devoting my attention to the conversation about to happen. Robert and the rest of Red Team are walking back across the ramp. The other soldiers grab items from our supplies before sitting in small groups on the ramp and enjoy a little conversation of their own with their meal.

  “You start,” I say leading off the conversation.

  “You know it’s not a good idea to go back in there. There are too many of them,” Lynn says looking into my eyes.

  “Look, I wouldn’t risk it if I didn’t think we could get some vital information. And you know that right?” I say.

  “That I do know but I don’t agree that the information is vital enough to warrant the risk,” she says countering.

  Here is the cusp of the matter. We are in disagreement with the importance of what information we may glean. Having seen what is in there, she thinks that any information we might gather there is not worth the risk, regardless of whether the risk is to me or someone else. I think that the information we can gather will give us an edge on what we are facing so we can plan better and counter the seeming advantage the night runners have over us. The simple fact is that they are around in great numbers and we will have to face them and defend ourselves if we are to survive. We are going to have to go into darkened buildings for supplies, at least in the immediate future, and we are going to have to be able to defend ourselves at night when the night runners are around. I relay how we are seeing this differently and the aspects from my point of view.

  “I understand what you’re saying but to go in there alone is ridiculous,” Lynn says with a stubbornness starting to edge into her voice.

  “You realize I used to do this all of the time,” I say trying to ease her mind and remind her that I wasn’t some newbie at this game.

  “Yes, dammit! And I know you were good at it too! But that was against people and not something that can smell you half a mile away. And, they responded on all floors at once. That you haven’t faced!” She responds adamantly.

  “Then I’ll just have to make sure I’m extra sneaky,” I say half smiling.

  “If you are truly going to do this, then I’m going with to watch your back,” Lynn says.

  “No, you also know I work better alone,” I say not wanting to have the worry of someone else.

  Not that she would need me to babysit her in the least, but I know part of my mind would be on her. For the most part, I did work with six-person teams and we did quite well. But I also know myself and will need to have my entire focus on getting through without worrying about maneuver, especially considering what Lynn and her group encountered. It would be nice to have someone to watch my backside but it has been my experience that I do better alone.

  “Dammit Jack! I don’t want you to do this,” she says with a tear forming in her eye.

  “I know, hon, but I feel I have to. I feel in my bones that there is something there of value to us. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t make the attempt and might as well seeing we’re here. We may not be able to ever get back here,” I say holding my arms open, inviting a hug.

  “If something happens to you, I’m going to be very pissed off at you,” she says folding into my arms and we hug each other tightly.

  “I’ll be careful,” I say kissing her as we release. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

  The shadows stretch long to the east from the aircraft and the soldiers sitting on the ramp. The sun bathes the horizon in reds, oranges, and purples, giving this day a magnificent send off. Birds dart through the late evening sky catching a last meal before retiring and finding a place to hide from the oncoming horror and violence of the night. I notice Lynn giving the soldiers quick nods of assurance as we approach, a light tension leaving them and feeling as assured as they can considering our circumstances.

  With the meals finished and the onset of night on our heels, we all head inside and seal the aircraft. Within our confined interior, the group attempts to find comfort among the large fuel tanks and other articles that fills a majority of the cargo compartment. Another uncomfortable night on the cargo floor for many of them.

  I head to the cockpit to do a last check, making sure the battery and other switches are set into the off position, after securing the blackout curtains over the interior windows,. I am in the pilot seat as Robert comes up and sits next to me in his usual position. We watch in silence as the tip of the sun vanishes below the horizon, hanging there for a moment before disappearing abruptly. The land around is cast wholly in shadows.

  Robert continues to stare after the now departed ball of fire, seeming lost in his thoughts. He is looking away from me and I detect a melancholy feeling emanating from him.

  “Are you really going back there?” He asks keeping his head turned.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I reply.

  “Why alone?” He asks.

  “Because that’s the best way to do it. You know a single person can get into some places a team can’t,” I say referring once again to our airsofting days.

  “Yeah, but what about two?” He asks, both in the same airsoft reference and wanting to go as well.

  “Well, this is different. If we were outdoors, I would definitely agree, but indoors, not so much,” I say answering his question.

  “How are you going to do it?” He asks still looking out of the window at the coming night.

  “Quietly,” I respond with a chuckle. He chuckles back but without the usual enthusiasm we usually have with that type of exchange.

  “Dad, you’ll be okay won’t you?” Bri asks. I hadn’t realized she had come up into the cockpit.

&
nbsp; “Yeah, babe, I’ll be fine,” I answer.

  Silence once again descends, falling into our own thoughts, partially from letting thoughts settle in our mind and partially from the necessity to be quiet with the darkness upon us. My own thoughts center on tomorrow, running through various scenarios and the actions to take with each one. Planning my route based on the information from Lynn, thinking about potential alternate routes in case I get trapped.

  Rope, I think pondering one alternate route. I need about 60 feet of rope. In case they come up behind me while I am on an upper floor. I will head for the closest room adjacent to the outside glass, break said glass and rappel down the exterior. I put that into my bag of tricks. Silence is going to be the key although that will not be enough. I will have to build a wood fire and smoke myself and my clothes before going in. I wish I had some of the scent maskers to rub on myself but the cover of smoke should do the trick. That should hide my scent, especially with so many small fires in the area. They should be used to that scent and not be alarmed by it, I think feeling suddenly foolish for not suggesting that for the teams that went in today.

  I will load up on as much ammo as I can carry silently. Too much and there is the chance that the mags will clink together at an inopportune moment. They will shift slightly if I bend over and there is the chance of them rubbing together if they are placed doubled up in their pouches. Tape my M-4 up so the sling attachments won’t rattle, in addition to the Velcro adjustment straps on my flight suit. Those have a tendency to make noise if they are stretched in any way – which I have been known to do at various times in my life. The rope will be tricky to manage but I can tape that up as well. If I do need that exit route, then I should have plenty of time to get it out and ready. Well, if the sun doesn’t sink down on me while still I’m in the building that is. I plan on venturing out early tomorrow morning so that should not be an issue.

  A distant shriek faintly reaches the interior where we sit, intruding on our silent reveries and interrupting my thoughts. The call drifts faintly through the night air, the direction is vague and I am not able to pinpoint its exact location but it seems to be coming from back towards the interior of the base. The night runners are out and hunting.

  “It’s that time,” I say quietly. “Let’s get ourselves set.”

  Shuffling around quietly, everyone settles down and finds a place to rest. There is not a need to tell everyone to be quiet. Everyone knows what the shadows descending upon our patch of earth means. Everyone heard the far off shriek seeming to signal a cry of discovery. Lying on the lower cockpit bunk, with a thin blanket pulled over me, I wonder if that cry signaled a discovery of another person or of an animal. Or, if it was a cry of discovery at all. It could have been one of them stubbing its toe for all I know but my mind thinks of them only as hunters and killing machines. I hear faint footsteps on flight of stairs coming up followed shortly thereafter by Lynn lifting the cover and sliding in next to me.

  “Watch schedules set?” I ask.

  “Yeah, we’re good,” she answers.

  “Goodnight, hon. I love you,” I say in a tired whisper.

  “I love you too,” she says quietly.

  My thoughts drift dreamily toward tomorrow, shifting randomly from thought to thought without any sticking around for any length of time. Outside, faint shrieks drift into the cockpit from time to time from night runners on the prowl. Some close and others farther away; echoing forlornly in the night. Moonlight is filtering into the cockpit bathing the pilot seats, instrument panel and center console with a silver glow and casting the rest of the interior in darker shadows. This scene is the last to filter into my semi-conscious mind before I fall into the oblivion of sleep.

  I wake with a start in the morning from a deep, dream-filled sleep. Early morning sunlight replaces the moonlight from the night before. The dreams of the night, of being chased while seeking desperately for something intangible, fade quickly from my mind. The images clear on first awakening but become muddled and indistinct as I try to relive them, finally fading into the distant recesses of my mind. The shadow of a bird flying close to one of the cockpit windows flits rapidly across the interior giving me a start before the bird materializes in the windshield, darting from side to side as it flies away from us on its mission to catch its breakfast and no doubt glad to have survived the night. The glow from the sun, just rising above the horizon, catches its back and wings with each turn.

  Lynn stirs beside, sensing either my waking or the sun rising as we adjust to the cycle of the sun. Perhaps this is the way it’s supposed to be, I think lying here wrapped in my thoughts. We are creatures of the day so our normal body rhythms should be in synch with the sun’s cycle.

  “Morning, babe,” I say lazily not wanting to get up.

  “Morning, hon,” Lynn says stretching and rolling over to give me a kiss. “You’ve got to do something about your new four-legged friend. He woke me up twice licking my face.”

  “Lucky dog,” I respond.

  Lynn gets up slowly, sitting on the edge of the bunk as she puts on her boots. She rises with a sigh to go wake everyone else. I feel like I could just lay here and sleep the day away. Feeling both exhausted and not wanting to really face another tension-filled day. Wishing I could just laze the day away reading or putting my kayak out on the waters as in the days before this virus hit. Well, the virus and vaccine that is. Wanting a day of rest from the constant tension, strain, and lack of sleep that the past days have brought. Knowing there will be no sanctuary from the constant peril until we get home and build one. Then, maybe, a little reprieve can be had. But that is a long ways away, I think rising in the same slow manner as Lynn. Robert appears in the cockpit shortly thereafter, followed by Bri, Michelle and Nic, all looking disheveled and tired.

  “Good morning,” I say as they enter, looking up at them wearily and wondering if my eyes show the same tiredness they seem to feel and that they each present.

  I am greeted by either a tired ‘good morning’ or a grunt from each. Rising from the bunk and doing my own stretching to align my sore muscles, I amble over to the pilot seat. My rear end is sore and rebelling against the idea of sitting down there once again. The one good thing is that my head has stopped feeling the slight ache inside and has adjusted to the lack of its morning caffeine fix. Sitting, well, rather more of a slumping, down into the seat, I see Nic and Michelle start to head towards the stairs.

  “We’ll just start on battery with this one,” I say knowing they were heading to get the start cart out and ready. They turn and settle into their seats without a word.

  Letting everyone know we are ready to go and giving them a chance to settle in as best they can, considering the crowded nature of the aircraft, we start up and take off into the morning sky, climbing into the morning and leveling off at a low altitude. The sun is glaring directly in front of us, having only just crested above the horizon. We make our way across the short distance to the other airfield in the east. Landing on the now familiar runway, and taxiing in to a stop adjacent to the pickup trucks we left parked there the evening prior, I shut down the aircraft.

  Passing through the aircraft, I ask Lynn to send a detail out to find dry wood in varying thicknesses in order to be able to build a fire. I also ask them to bring back live wood with lots of green leaves and such still attached. They head out on foot, venturing through the open gate and into the neighborhood beyond.

  I notice the ripe aroma emanating from my flight suit offending not only myself but I am sure those around. I reach into my bag to remove a fresh one, noticing my cell phone lying within. Hmmmm, I think retrieving it and wondering if it still works but knowing the likelihood and odds of that are slim to none. Nonetheless, I bring it with me, sticking it in one of my upper pockets after changing into a fresh flight suit and contemplate burning the one I just changed out of; completely amazed it doesn’t stand on its own, run away or start beating me for the way I treated it.

  I see Kathy, Li
ttle Robert, and Kenneth standing off to one side looking a little lost. I feel a little lost as to what to do with them as well. Not in regards as what to do with them overall as they are a part of us now, but more of how to incorporate them. We are basically integrated into fire teams and our business lately has largely been fighting to survive. They are the first of hopefully many we will find alive. I am sure they will find it easier to integrate once we get back.

  I find a similar circumstance and feeling with Frank and Bannerman. Although ‘former’ military men, they are not involved tremendously in any of the operations. Bannerman has the logistics end so is keeping moderately busy with our supplies and formulating plans for when we arrive back. Frank will be busy as well once we arrive back as he will be working alongside Bannerman in the Intel role. Plus, if we do find any information today, he will be busy pouring through them to help formulate our tactics. They are all basically passengers, as we all really are, until we arrive back at McChord. These feelings and thoughts occupy my mind for a moment as I pass through the cargo compartment.

  Out on the tarmac, the day promises to be another warm, humid day even at this early morning hour. I begin to gather my tools of trade together with my new canine friend quietly following me around or at my side. The others leave me to myself, sensing my want and need to be alone to focus on my adventure to come. I want this time in order to settle into a frame of mind. Each mag I insert into my tac vest puts me deeper into my ‘business’ mindset, reminiscent of so many other pre-mission moments of gearing up, both physically and mentally. Setting my mind into the single focus of the mission yet opening at the same time. Expanding my senses of awareness but filtering and refining that awareness down to intercept signals of danger. Becoming more aware of my actions and the sounds, smells, and movement around me.

  As the last mag is inserted and checked for rounds, I begin the process of taping loose items down, hopping intermittently to test for any slight sound coming from me; finding items that make the slightest noise and taping them into quietness. The rope I coil and also tape down, looping it over my head and under one arm, ensuring it doesn’t interfere with the ability to freely move. Ensuring also that it doesn’t interfere with my ability to grab magazines or get to the radio transmit button. I also gather lengths of 550 cord. A very thin, lightweight cord that has incredible strength. The same kind as is used for parachute cords. Stepping away from the aircraft and making sure no one is in my line of fire, I test fire my M-4, both on semi and burst, emptying the chamber to ensure it will work properly in the event I need it, and refill the spent rounds. There is nothing worse than having something that should function automatically fail at a moment when you need it most. It tends to drastically reduce your options in that moment. Basically reducing them to run and run fast.