Bragg thought about it for a few seconds, then lowered his shotgun and opened the door.
“Yer all git in here,” he said. “Don’t want the feds ta see y’all standin’ out in the open like that.”
Grafton and Kramer entered the recluse’s house, and stared at the large, single-room space. The “house” was actually a buried old military metal building, which Kramer immediately recognized.
“Old Quonset hut, huh?” Kramer started.
“Good eyes,” the gristly old man replied. He pulled out a pack of unfiltered Camel cigarettes and lit one with a metal Zippo lighter. Taking a long draw, he blew the smoke up toward the roof where a venting fan slowly turned, pulling the outside air in from the front door and up and out of the buried structure.
“Is you military?” Bragg asked.
“Air Force.” Kramer replied. “Captain in the medical corps.”
“Medical, huh.” Bragg spat. “Never had no use fer the fly-boys. But yer a doc, so I’ll give ya a pass.”
“You’re a Marine.” Kramer said with some conviction. “You were a noncom.”
“HA!” Bragg howled. “At least ya know what we were. All that P.C. crap now and we suddenly became N.C.O.s. What a load. Bunch’a pussies if ya ask me.”
Kramer smiled. Having dealt with old school Marines, he knew they were as tough as they were crude. They lived up to their reputation, cemented in history by a famous quote attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt over 50 years ago. “The Marines I have seen around the world have the cleanest bodies, the filthiest minds, the highest morale, and the lowest morals of any group of animals I have ever seen. Thank God for the United States Marine Corps!” She had said.
“Well, Sergeant.” Kramer began.
“Staff Sergeant!” Bragg replied.
“Well, Staff Sar,” Kramer stated once again, using the slang term many older veterans preferred. “I hear you may have a working ham radio. My daughter is a resident at Vanderbilt Medical Center in Nashville. I need to know if she’s alright.”
“Well,” Bragg said. “Yer little one’s a doctor too, huh!”
The old Marine stared at Kramer, sizing him up and down as if appraising a new boot. Finally, after scratching his clean-shaven, heavily cragged face, he nodded.
“I kin do that,” he finally said. “But I don’t know if I kin get anyone up there. Most of the ham’s been from out of the country. Hardly nobody’s been talkin’ with anyone in the states.”
“Really,” Ed chimed in. “No one but you?”
“Yep!” Bragg replied. “Find it intrestin’ that no one but the U.S. been hit by that EMP either.”
“You sure about the EMP?” Kramer asked.
“That’s what I’m hearin’ from Europe. Seems the boys overseas been recalled back to the states. But they ain’t been able ta coordinate much with our folks back here. They says the President,” He stopped and spat on the ground, “Our leader’s bin in contact with the Europeans. Says he’s safe n sound somewhere. Probably Hawaii if ya ask me. And that it was an EMP.”
“Do they know who did it?” Kramer asked.
Bragg let out a howl, laughing so hard he lost his breath. His tar-filled lungs began to hack as he fought for air, finally bringing himself under control after a full minute of wall-rattling coughs.
“Who do ya’ think did it?” Bragg asked sarcastically.
Kramer suddenly recognized Bragg for who he was, a conspiracy nut. Scanning the room, he saw the ham radio set up on a table next to a corkboard. Displayed on the board were printouts of articles too small to read other than their headlines.
“U.S. and Russian Navies Hold Joint Exercises in Atlantic and Baltic Seas!”
“Russian Advisers Work with Army on Joint Counter Terrorism Drills!”
“Soviet and Chinese Generals to Observe DHS Exercises in Texas.”
“President Say He Wants to “Transform America!”
Kramer moved closer to the displayed articles and began to read their full text. Slowly, it began to dawn on him that the government might have actually been duplicitous in the whole thing, if not by their hand, then with their tacit approval. It made a sick kind of sense that the administration would allow this crisis to occur, giving them and their followers a chance to reshape the country as they saw fit.
“Holy crap!” Kramer said as he studied the news-covered wall.
“Made a believer out a ya?” Bragg asked with pride.
“I’ll say this,” Kramer shot back. “I can’t argue that it isn’t possible.”
“Well,” Bragg replied. “Ya’r one of the few officers I’ve met that has a brain on their shoulders.” He then continued.
“I’ll send a message up the tree and see if there’s anyone in Nashville that’s got a line on yer daughter. Write down her name and where she is and I’ll try and find her fer ya!”
“Thanks!” Kramer said. “If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.”
“Thar sure is!” He quickly replied. “I need some more smokes.”
“Come on!” Ed interjected. “You can’t ask a doctor to get you some cigarettes!”
“Ed!” Kramer quickly responded. “Right now the world’s gone to hell. I don’t think worrying about his lungs is a big priority now.”
“Now that’s the spirit!” Bragg said with a partially toothless smile. “I knew ya were a smart one, doc.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Kramer assured the old man. “We’re going out to find some deep cycle batteries for my solar setup, and while we’re out there I’ll try and find some cigarettes for you. I just can’t promise you they’ll be unfiltered Camels.”
“Well, I kin smoke just about anything. But the Camels would be the best. Just grab as many as ye can an I’ll be happy with whatever ye bring.”
“Let’s go,” Kramer said after writing down his daughter’s information. “We’ll check back with you in a day or two. I just don’t know how long or if we’ll be able to find some batteries. We went to Bella Collina and the golf cart batteries were already gone.”
“Huh,” Bragg replied. “Yer gonna have a tough time findin’ any batteries. At least, where everyone looks fer ‘em! But I know where no one has checked.”
“Where?” Ed asked suspiciously. “I’ll bet every Wal-Mart, auto supply store and golf course has been raided.”
“Fer sure!” The old Marine said. “But I’ll bet no one’s checked the cell phone towers!”
“What? What about the cell towers?” Ed asked back.
“Every cell tower’s got a battery backup system,” Bragg replied. “It’s in a metal box or shed next to the tower. They got a ton of batteries in ‘em to keep them cell phones goin’ if there’s a hurricane or some other emergency. I’ll bet no one’s gone there since cell phones ain’t workin’ now anyway.”
“I’ll be damned.” Grafton said. “You’re right. And I know where there’s two of them in Winter Garden.”
“There are several that are closer that that!” Kramer said.
“Yeah, but they’re part of a big corporation like Verizon or Sprint. The batteries are probably inside one of their buildings, and I don’t want to go traipsing around inside a structure and not know where the backup system is.
These two are privately owned and they lease their towers to the cell companies.” Kramer noted.
He continued, “I’ve seen one of the two up close, and the shed is just behind a chain-linked fence. At least I know that’s where their batteries are and we won’t have to break into anything more than a padlocked fence and a metal-latched shed.”
“Now yer thinkin’!” Bragg squawked. “And while yer out there, ya can check fer my smokes!”
With a plan in place that would give them a legitimate chance for succes
s, Grafton and Kramer thanked the old Marine and, returning to their old Chevy, they started it up and left the bunker behind.
“It’s after noon,” Ed said. “I need to go home and get some more tools and we can grab a bite to eat.”
“I thought you brought your tools?” Kramer replied.
“Not the tools I’ll need for breaking and entering. If we’re going to get into those sheds, I’ll need something more.”
Nodding, Kramer sat silently on the passenger’s side of the old leather bench seat. At least they had a plan to try and contact Claire, and he now felt comfortable telling his wife about Bragg and his radio. But something else bothered him, and now that he had met the old Marine, he recognized his concerns. He was developing a bad taste for the government. The fact that DHS busses were bypassing stranded children, and that no help was forthcoming to his neighbors was bad enough. But finding out that all this was happening while the bureaucrats were sitting in Hawaii or some other comfortable place just pushed him over the top. Now, he wasn’t sure what to do, and uncertainty was not a companion he enjoyed. Uncertainty was the bane of his profession, and he worked passionately to avoid it. But in these times, as an old general once said, you have to go to war with the Army you have. In other words, you did the best you could with what you’d been given.
Sometimes, faith was all you had; and as long as you put your best foot forward, you had to trust that it would all work out in the end.
The trip home took less than 10 minutes and Grafton dropped Kramer off at his house, promising to pick him up in half an hour. Entering his home, he was rewarded with the smell of cooking. His wife had used some freeze-dried beef and made a pot of chili. The aroma of chili powder and meat filled the hallway, drawing him into the kitchen like an ant to a pot of honey.
“Hey Babe!” His wife said as she quickly walked over to him and gave him an appreciative hug and kiss. “Just in time for my chili!”
“I can smell it!” He replied.
Barb ladled out some pasta from a pot on the gas stove. She covered the noodles with a giant heap of her chili and sprinkled it with onions.
“Sorry I don’t have any cheese,” She said. “I didn’t rehydrate any.”
“Save it, this is more than enough,” he assured her. “We can use it later. You never know when we will need the calories. And besides, this looks amazing as it is!”
Barb beamed with appreciation as they sat down at the table, joining their obviously pouting daughter.
After a few bites, Kramer began to sense the hostility coming from his youngest child. Giving his wife one of their shared looks, he let her know that he recognized Caroline’s attitude. Barb just gave him a gentle shake of the head back, indicating that they would talk about it later.
Three more bites into their lunch, and Caroline abruptly sprang up from the kitchen table and announced that she wasn’t hungry.
“I’m going to my room, since I can’t go anywhere else!” She haughtily announced and stormed out of the room.
Kramer turned to his wife and waited for their little bundle of joy to leave their presence. When they heard her bedroom door slam shut, Barb smiled.
“What’s that about?” Kramer asked in typical fatherly ignorance.
“It seems our little butterfly is flirting about with our new next-door neighbor.”
“You mean Rob?” He stated, his paternal ire beginning to rise.
“Yeah, but keep your shirt on,” she replied, recognizing his rising temper. “It hasn’t gone far, and I let her know that it better not go any further.”
“You know,” Kramer added. “When I was at Ed’s garage today, Rob asked about her. He did seem disappointed that she wasn’t with me. I got the sense that they liked each other, but I didn’t know how far it had gone!”
“Well, it hasn’t progressed beyond a little make-out session, at least from what I can tell.”
“I better have a word with her,” he said, getting up from the table.
“Sit down, Gerry.” She gently commanded. “I’ve got a handle on it. No sense having her mad at both of us. But I think you might want to discuss this with Robert as well. Having an angry dad standing in front of his daughter may hold more sway than having Ed giving him some unwanted advice.”
“Makes sense.” Kramer said, adding, “Are you sure it’s not gone further?”
“As sure as I can be,” She replied. “I do trust her to tell me the truth; but she is 18, and I guess she’s an adult now.”
“Not in my house she isn’t!” Kramer shot back. “My house, my rules!”
“And it isn’t like she could just get up and go somewhere else right now.” Barb added. “I know she’ll say that I’m being unfair.”
“Life isn’t fair!” Kramer said. “Remind her of that. The last thing we need is a pregnant daughter.”
“She gets that now,” Barb assured him. “We had a nice, long talk last night.”
“Sounds like I need to have the same with Rob.”
“Sounds like it!” Barb replied, and they both went back to finish their delicious bowls of chili.
After lunch, Kramer decided to walk over to Ed’s house in the hopes of talking with Rob. His steady temperament had quickly returned, and finding Rob still hard at work and alone in the garage, he firmly but kindly explained his position as Caroline’s father to the young man. Kramer never raised his voice, but left the boy with no doubt that he would completely regret crossing any lines with Caroline.
After receiving assurances that Rob totally understood where he stood and what was expected, Kramer walked over to the Grafton house and arrived just as Ed was leaving the front door.
“What are you doing here,” Ed congenially asked.
Kramer explained the situation, finding out that Ed had quietly given Rob the same admonition earlier that day.
“Between the two of us,” Ed said. “I think the kid gets it.”
“I hope they both do,” Kramer said shaking his head. “But in this world at this time, you just don’t know.”
Ed led Kramer back to the garage, and yelled to Rob.
“Hey, are you done with the torch?”
“Yes sir,” Rob said, looking apprehensively at the two older men.
“Load it up in the back of the pickup. And put my bolt cutters and a siphon back there as well.”
The young man had the truck loaded within a minute, moving faster than either of them had ever seen him move. After closing the pickup’s drop-down door, and securing the large torch with bungee cords, he scurried out of sight back into the garage.
Ed started up the truck and began to pull away. Once out of the driveway, both men turned to each other and began to laugh. From the poor kid’s reaction, it was plainly evident that he had gotten the message.
“I think we got to him!” Ed said with a grin.
“Yeah,” Kramer said. “But hormones are constant. We need to stay vigilant and not let up.”
They drove on in silence, passing once again through the Academy’s property as the road took them south toward Winter Garden.
They kept their eyes out for other vehicles but saw none as they passed through the Oakland area. Suddenly, Kramer pointed to their front as a large bus crested over a hill about a half a mile down the road.
“There!” Kramer said, pointing out the advancing vehicle.
Quickly, three more busses appeared, all following the first.
“What do you think?” Ed asked.
“I don’t think we want to run into them right now!” He replied. Then, pointing off to the side of the road where a driveway led up to a small church, he said, “Let’s move off over there and get behind the building.”
Ed quickly turned into the church’s drive and pulled around back. Turning off the en
gine, they could hear the sound of the four busses as they rumbled up the tree-lined two-lane road.
The sound of the engines maintained their steady hum, and soon they passed by, leaving the men grateful that their encounter had occurred where they could see far enough ahead. Much of the road contained curves and wooded areas that made advance warning impossible.
Returning to their previous route, they quickly made their way out of town.
About two blocks after leaving the church, they saw some police officers walking away from the road, heading back down the side street that they had obviously just come from.
Hearing their approaching pickup, the three cops turned as one and began running back to the road.
“Hit it,” Kramer said, as he watched two of the men pulling their service weapons from their belted holsters. All three men had abandoned their full length pants, opting for shorts. But they wore the short sleeved shirts of the local police department, and the “Batman Belts” that held their pistols and other police gear.
Ed floored the old truck, its old engine not up to modern standards but efficient enough to push them past the oncoming men.
Once they were well beyond the three cops, Ed turned to his friend.
“What was that about?” He asked.
“Well,” Kramer started. “I’ve been thinking. We can’t trust anyone now. First, if they were cops, they probably would have demanded we take them wherever they wanted to go, or just taken the truck and left us high and dry. Secondly, we don’t even know they are real cops. Anyone could get those shirts and cop gear and pretend to be law enforcement.”
“Gosh, I never thought about that.” Ed admitted. “But if we can’t trust the government, and we can’t trust cops, then what?”
“Then we don’t trust anyone, just each other!” Kramer finished. “Let’s just keep going and get this done.”
Grafton slowed his vehicle down, both lowering the sounds coming from the engine, and allowing them more time to see advancing vehicles. Once, they saw an older dump truck shoot across an intersection a few hundred yards to their front. But the old beast was moving so fast, that their driver never saw Ed’s truck off to its right.
Charlie's Requiem: Democide Page 23
