by C A Bird
The woman, dressed in blue jeans and a denim shirt, and appearing to be in her late forties was crying. “Oh my God, Sheri.” She held the younger woman at arm’s length, staring at her in disbelief. “Where have you been? How did you get here?” She grabbed Sheri again as the man stood back watching them. He was tall, with a full head of brown hair, but graying at the temples. His grin split his face from ear to ear.
“I’ve been staying in New Mexico.” She finally pulled away from her aunt and gestured toward Jimbo. “This is Jimbo, a very good friend. This is my aunt Carla and that’s my Uncle Doug.” Jimbo switched his Sig-Sauer to his left hand and shook Doug’s hand. Before he could shake Carla’s, she enfolded him in a big, bear hug.
The sound of horse’s hooves on the pavement brought them all around, as the rest of Sheri’s companions rounded the corner. Doug looked nervous.
“Don’t worry Uncle Doug, they’re my friends.”
“Do you mind if the horses graze on your lawn?” Mark asked, as he swung off Jasper.
Doug laughed. “Not at all. It needs a good mowing but I don’t have a manual mower so I gave up on it.”
The wagon pulled up in front and the others dismounted, as Carla invited them into the house. The kids timidly followed their mother inside, while Mike and Skillet stayed outside to settle the animals.
As usual, Matthew and Einstein were nowhere to be seen.
31
The basement and foundation of the White House was finished, the hardwood floor installed, and the granite walls were rising. It was a balmy day, a few fluffy clouds floating through a light blue sky with insects buzzing lazily through the magnolias and wildflowers around the construction site. Men sweated as they mortared the blocks they were using to build the wall. In the past few weeks since the construction had begun, three men had died from exhaustion and overwork, and two more were killed when a wagon overloaded with granite blocks fell over and crushed them under a pile of rocks. The militia that ran the camp didn’t care about the prisoners, only that they met the expectations of the president and kept the project on schedule.
At night, the men who shared a four-person dorm room whispered of escape and made plans that most of them knew would never be carried out. They knew what had happened to the last group that had made the attempt, but took heart in hearing the rumor that two of the men had made it and were never found.
A large gathering of men and women sauntered toward the construction site. Rob Sandford and Harris Peele cast furtive glances toward the group but were careful to keep working at a steady pace. The men had learned to expend just enough energy to keep from attracting the attention of the guards.
The president scowled at the rising structure. “I thought it would be further along. What’s taking so long? At this rate it won’t be finished by winter.”
“Mr. President,” the chief architect replied, “with so few running vehicles, we’re forced to bring in the materials using horse-drawn wagons. The granite blocks weigh tons and the wagons can only carry so many.”
“The wagon over there looks like it could carry more.”
“Sir, if we put more on it, we run a danger of the wagon overturning and dumping the load. We lost two workers when it happened last week.”
“Well then, get more wagons! And more workers,” the president snapped. “General Ladner, can’t we get some trucks?”
The general, dressed in his camo fatigues rather than a dress uniform, shook his head. “Jeremy, we just can’t spare any of the vehicles. We’re getting ready to send another platoon down south. We’re beginning to encounter significant resistance in South Carolina.”
“Are you telling me we haven’t made it to Georgia yet? Have you taken care of that dissident yet?”
The group stopped and hung back as the president confronted General Ladner. There were seven members of congress with him that day, out of the score that survived. They had learned to keep their mouths shut, after Henry Simms had been arrested by the army when he had continued to question the president’s policies. No one knew where he was being held or even if he was still alive.
“We sent the 1st Southern Elite Company as you ordered, sir. So far, they’ve been unable to locate him. They found his house in the Atlanta suburbs but he had moved his equipment. He’s still broadcasting so they think he’s relocated to the hills outside the city. They’ve run into local militias.”
“They’re supposed to be the elite. Surely they can handle a few hicks.”
“Jeremy, be reasonable. They are completely outnumbered. I recommend we recall them, mop up in South Carolina and go back into Georgia after we recruit more soldiers. More and more men are joining with us every day, They realize it’s either enlist or be put on the work crews. They get three squares a day and a decent place to sleep.”
“Who’s organizing the rebels in the South?”
“We’ve heard there’s a provisional government. We need to concentrate on consolidating our power here before we spread ourselves too thin. We may end up fighting a war down there.”
The president stood staring out at the rising White House. “Damn. Recall the Elite and pull back our other men. Let’s step up our recruiting in the north and west. And get this damn building finished. I want to surprise the First Lady when she moves here from the bunker.”
The architect gestured at the south end of the building. “The living quarters will be finished by October, Mr. President. The offices will take longer.”
Rissman just stared at him. “Get more workers,” he ordered.
“Jeremy, it’s almost time for the call with Colonel Packer at Vandenberg. They communicated earlier that the Louisiana was docking at Harvest Platform.”
“Well, let’s get back then. I could use some good news.”
***
The U.S.S. Louisiana had docked at Harvest, and as the crew prepared for an extended stay, Richard Dombrowski and a dozen others took the oil rig’s powerboat to shore at Vandenberg. He missed Jerrod Holder, a fine officer, that had always accompanied him to shore and to the meetings they’d had with Colonel Packer.
Pineapples, for God’s sake, he thought.
Lieutenant Commander Manheim had taken over as weapons officer and Communications Officer Patrick Crane was accompanying the captain to Vandenberg. Crane was more introverted than Holder but had come to know many of the Air Force officers during their shore leaves.
The boat pulled up to the dock and a contingent of Air Force personnel were there to greet them. They had radioed ahead and informed Packer of the success of their mission.
Colonel Packer and Major Whittinghall saluted smartly, and grinning, approached Dombrowski and his crew. Sticking out his hand he shook the captain’s and clapped him on the shoulder. “Congratulations, Captain. Well done. We’ve set up a meeting with President Rissman for this afternoon. He’s anxious to hear your full report.”
“Thanks, Colonel. We’d like to begin re-supply preparations as soon as possible so that if the President has another mission for us we’ll be ready.”
“How about some lunch and then we can begin planning. The meeting with the President is at 1500 hours, our time.”
The colonel gestured at a jeep that waited alongside the platoon of soldiers, who were still standing at attention. It pulled up and Colonel Packer, Dombrowski and Commander Crane climbed in as Major Whittinghall gave orders for the master sergeant to release the men. The Navy crew accompanied the airmen as they began the march back to the barracks, two miles inland.
The jeep sped off to the Command Center the colonel had set up across the field from the barracks. There were only two-hundred and sixty men on the base, fourteen were officers and the others enlisted men. The colonel had wanted to keep them quartered together. Two lieutenants and five sergeants had quarters in the barracks with the enlisted men, and the other officers were quartered in the housing behind the Command Center.
The number of soldiers was growing, as single men drifted onto the
base looking for a job that provided food and shelter. Colonel Packer remembered a man who wrote an investment newsletter before the war, that claimed there was nothing more dangerous than a young, unmarried male. These were the men Packer was recruiting and he dreamed of the day when he would have the strength of numbers to take control of the West Coast, and claim it for the new United States of America. They had a basic training program and, at least for now, guns and ammo weren’t an issue. Their numbers would soon pass three hundred.
There was still plenty of stored food on the base, but they needed to become more sustainable. Packer was considering conscripting the civilian population of Lompoc to grow and preserve food for his growing force. His plan was to wait until he had an overwhelming number of airmen, and could take the town without significant resistance.
The rest of California, not laid waste by the Chinese, would then be his for the taking. Within a couple of years he would be the Supreme Commander of the western region of the United States. In their last conversation, the president had promised to make him a general. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he was at the top… General of the Air Force.
32
Mark and the others gave Sheri some time to catch up with her aunt and uncle by checking the back yard and across the street, making sure no one unwanted was approaching. Carla and Sheri went into the kitchen to prepare dinner and Mark, Jimbo and Mike sat in the living room talking to Doug. Aside from the gray at the temples, Doug looked fairly young to be Sheri’s uncle.
“Carla is Sheri’s mother’s younger sister by almost ten years. We know her folks are gone, so I’m hoping she will stay with us.”
Jimbo shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve grown real fond of her over these couple years but I know the reason she came with us was to try and find some family. This is her home.”
Doug nodded. “What are the rest of you going to do?”
“I was hoping my wife and kids and I could move back to my home in Newport, but every attempt to go toward Southern California was met with high radiation readings on the counter. I guess we just want to find out how others are faring, and what the political situation is, and then we’ll probably go back to Willsburg.” Mark felt Lori squeeze his hand.
There was a knock at the door and it suddenly flew open. A man stood on the porch, the point of a crossbow arrow denting the skin on his neck and Matthew’s hand gripping his arm. The man’s eyes were wide with fear.
“Wait, don’t shoot him!” Doug called out as they all converged on the door. “He’s one of my neighbors.”
“Neighbors don’t usually peek in your window,” Matthew said softly. “Found him in your bushes.” He lowered his crossbow and shoved the man forward.
“I was just trying to find out what was happening, Doug. The Council sent me.”
“Well, tell the freakin’ Council to come here themselves. We can all talk.”
“Sure Doug.” The man threw a frightened look at Matthew and turned and ran down the street.
Matthew nodded at Mark and headed back to his post..
“Do you think this Council of yours will show up?” Mark asked Doug.
“Yeah, we’ve been wondering what to do about the Air Force. Let’s get dinner and by then they’ll probably be here.”
Dinner was mostly vegetarian with only a single chicken to share, but lots of garden vegetables. Jimbo took plates out to Matthew, Einstein and Skillet. Just as Doug predicted, the doorbell rang and four men stood on the porch with their hands in plain sight. Mark recognized two of them from the group that had met them earlier in the day.
They brought chairs from the kitchen and everyone gathered around and introduced themselves. Jack Putnam was the head of the Council.
“So, did you guys see any military on your way into town?”
“None,” Mark told him. “Are there very many of them?”
“There’s a couple hundred, at least, over at Vandenberg. We’ve had some run-ins. If anyone is found alone outside of town, or even at the edge of town, they confiscate their guns. We think they may be getting ready to try and take us over.”
Lori asked him, “What makes you think that? Aren’t they trying to help with re-building?”
“I don’t think they want us to rebuild as a civilian town. They want a military dictatorship. Some of our guys got in a fight with ‘em over at a local pub. The guy was drunk, said they were going to enslave our asses. They’ve been recruiting all kinds of guys from around here. Not just Lompoc, but from Mission Hills and Santa Maria. Any further north than that seems to be hot, radioactive. They have tons of guns and ammo at the base.”
“Maybe they can tell us what’s going on,” Mark said. “We came here to find out about the Chinese and if the war is truly over. If I could meet with them I can get some news and maybe find out what plans they have for you.”
“Mark…”
“Lori, it’s okay. They aren’t going to hurt me. I have dealt with military guys my entire career.”
The door opened and Matthew and Einstein entered. Matthew looked at Jimbo and he and Mike headed outside. “I would like to hear what’s going on if that’s okay,” Matthew told them, as he was introduced around the room.
“Of course,” Mark said. “And this is Einstein.”
“Actually,” he said, “my name’s Derek. I really prefer it.”
Lori smiled and said, “Have a seat Derek. So what are you folks planning on doing?”
“Well, we need to do something,” Brendon said, his blue eyes full of concern. “We had forty-five thousand people before the war, but there were only a few shelters when the radiation swept through here. People thought we were okay when Vandenberg didn’t get hit. They didn’t take shelter and tens of thousands sickened and died. It took ten months to relocate the bodies to a dump down south. And the fires burned and smoldered for two weeks as we burned ‘em. If the bodies were in their houses we just left ‘em there.” His look was haunted.
Kurt said, “Others took off inland, afraid we might get hit later. We outnumber the military four to one but they have way better guns.”
“Yeah, and at the rate they’re recruiting, they will really overpower us soon. A lot of people are talking about leaving but that would make it even worse for the rest of us. This is our home.”
“Where would they go?” Lori asked Jack.
“We’ve heard you can’t go north, hardly at all, and not below Santa Barbara to the south. Quite a few families went to Ojai. The mountains seemed to have protected it. But after the first few, the others were turned back by the people that lived there. I guess they can try and go east to Bakersfield. The Kern river goes through there.”
“Okay,” Mark said, “don’t anyone get too worked up until I talk to them. I’ll go out to the base tomorrow. Any idea where they are?”
“No. We stay away from the base. We have a couple cars and some motorcycles, so we can drop you off at the front gate.”
They stayed up late, as the travelers told their stories to the townspeople and heard theirs in return. After the Council had left, Mark walked out front to find Matthew. He and Derek were going to spend the night in the wagon. Matthew had put his hat in the wagon and released his pony tail. His hair blew around in the on-shore breeze, redolent with the scent of saltwater bog.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. Hopefully this will be a real shot at getting some news and helping these people. I would hope that the military would be interested in helping the country to rebuild.”
“In a survival scenario,” Matthew said, “the military is more likely to take care of its own. They often turn into militias, controlling people with superior might.”
“Do you think they’ll detain me?”
“That’s hard to say, but it’s possible. They haven’t bothered the townspeople except for confiscating a few guns, but they may be waiting until the time’s right.”
“Matthew, I have a huge favor. If I don’t return within, say, four
days, you’ll have to assume I’m lost. Don’t try to rescue me. I don’t want to risk the rest of you. But can you make sure Lori and the kids get back to Willsburg?”
“Of course. You didn’t even need to ask, but Lori is not going to want to go until we know for sure. And frankly, the rest of us won’t want to either. Not unless we know you’re dead.”
“I appreciate that but I can’t take a risk with my family.”
“Know that I will care for your family as if they were my own, but we’ll remain in town until we know what’s happened to you. I will not delay, however, to get them out of here if there is real danger.”
“Thanks, Matthew. There’s no one I trust more.” He shook Matthew’s hand and watched as the young man climbed into the wagon. Then he headed back into the house where he expected an argument from his wife.
The kids slept in a real bed for the first time since Barstow, and Mark and Lori made a bed with sleeping bags in the corner of the room. Sheri slept in the bedroom she had always stayed in when she visited her aunt and uncle, and Mike slept on the couch. Jimbo and Skillet stood guard, and for once Matthew and Derek slept during the night, staying in the wagon.
Mark was right. His head hadn’t hit the pillow when he and Lori had another argument about Mark’s tendency to take on the tough or dangerous jobs.
“Why is it always you?” she whispered fiercely.
“It’s my nature to take charge and be the one to handle stuff. How do you think I became the CEO of Will’s company? You know me Lori. I have to do this. This is what we came out here for.”
“I know. The world has become a dangerous place and we both know there are risks to be taken. We need to make a pact. It seems we’re always arguing about who’s doing what and who’s not going to stay behind. I’ll make you a deal. When you feel you need to take a risk for the greater good, I will support you and keep my fears to myself. But you can never again try to force me to do what’s safe for me. We’re the toughest couple on Earth. Deal?”
