A New World 10 - Storm (8 page)

“Jack, right? When we saw the C-130, I was hoping it was you,” Jason says, extending his hand.

“Yeah. It’s good to see you,” I reply, returning the shake. Speaking into the radio, I have Robert stop the engines and for the teams stand down.

“Sir,” the soldier says, unsure of whether to salute or shake my hand. Relieving the awkward moment, I extend my hand.

“How are things here?” I ask, turning to Jason.

“Well, to tell you the truth, Jack, we’ve been better,” he answers.

“Are you having problems with night runners?” I query.

“No, they seldom venture out this way anymore. We originally brought some cattle inside the perimeter, but that seemed to draw the changelings. So, we moved them a ways down the road and haven’t been hassled since. That just opened up another problem though,” Jason states.

As I’m about to pursue this line, he continues. “But let’s not talk about this out here. Let’s head inside and we can catch up.”

“Okay, lead the way. I have something to talk to you about as well,” I say.

I radio Gonzalez and have the teams disembark along with the soldiers. After conferring with Jason, he allows them to stretch their legs in one of the hangars. I leave Horace and her team to keep watch over the soldiers. Henderson, Denton, and Craig stay behind with the aircraft to keep an eye on our weapons and ammo. The dust cloud we created with our arrival is drifting slowly away and begins to settle. I keep Robert, Bri, and Gonzalez with me as we follow Jason and the soldier across the ramp, my feet crunching on a couple inches of sand with each step.

Although clear, the morning has a definite chill to it. It was that way the last time we were here, but the day doesn’t hold the same promise of heat. Looking at the blue sky overhead, I’m thankful for the extended summer we are experiencing. It won’t be long until the weather closes in on us, but at least we have satellite coverage for a little while. Several 4WD pickups are parked outside one of the buildings just off the ramp. We head to this building, and upon reaching it Jason holds the door open for us to enter. I hesitate at the entrance. Even though assured that there aren’t any night runners, I’m still not comfortable about entering any new building. I feel tension build and my heartbeat elevates. With all that we’ve gone through, I’m not sure that this reaction will ever go away. I force the uneasiness down, and with a deep, calming breath, step inside.

The building opens into a small foyer and I’m immediately hit with a myriad of smells. The aroma of cooked meals lingers in the air, mixed with a hint of body odor. And it isn’t just from a single person or from a scant few; it’s the scent of people who have lived in close quarters for some time with infrequent bathing. It’s not overpowering, but it’s there. And to my nose, it’s stronger than what the others would smell.

“We mostly use this building to live in,” Jason comments, seeing my expression.

Although I’ve been known to play a mean game of poker, I pretty much wear my thoughts on my face, so I must have wrinkled my nose. Or perhaps muttered something out loud…I’m never sure about that. To be honest, our sanctuary at Cabela’s doesn’t smell much better. I merely nod at his statement and he leads us to a room where we can talk.

“So, what brings you out this way?” Jason asks once we all settle in.

“Well, it’s a rather long story, but we have a fifty soldiers with us that we’d like to leave with you,” I answer.

Jason pauses for a moment. “I’ll admit that they would be a welcome addition, Jack, but honestly, we’re just barely managing to feed those here now. I’m just not sure that we could take them in.”

“What's the problem? It seemed you were doing pretty well the last time we visited,” I say.

“Well, we were. We have the greenhouses and a couple of good wells on base. However, with that said, water is our problem. We keep a generator going and rewired it to supply this building, the greenhouses, and the well. But, we’re running out of fuel. There was a bit stored here but we’ve used most of that. We’ve also drained most of the fuel from the vehicles on base. I’m not sure what we’ll do when that runs out. It’s come to the point where we have to decide to stay or make a run for it. We’ve kept some in reserve in case we have to do that,” Jason states, the soldier affirming it with a nod.

“What do you mean by ‘make a run for it?'” I query. “What about draining fuel from vehicles in the city?”

“Well, as I mentioned, we moved the cattle off base and began establishing a farm system in the outlying fields. That helped with the occasional changeling forays from the city, but that’s when we began having problems with another group. Once we finished with the fields and moved the cattle, we started getting intercepted by a large gang of bandits, for lack of a better term. It’s come to the point that we can’t venture outside of the gates without being attacked. We can’t get to our farms or our cattle. Although they’re armed like us, we’re basically a bunch of families and aren’t set up to fight them off. We managed to bring some of the cattle back to base, but they won’t last us long. That’s why I hesitate to accept your offer. Fifty soldiers would be very welcome, but I’m not sure we could feed that many in the short-term. We may be able to use them to fight off the bandits, but we may also starve before that happens. You can see my dilemma,” Jason states. “So, basically, we just keep within the perimeter and make do as best we can. We can see the occasional dust trail during the day out where we set everything up.”

I can see his point, but am not sure why fifty armed soldiers couldn’t remedy the situation in short order. I’m sure the problem would be solved before starvation set in. However, I haven’t been here and may not fully understand the problem. And, it’s not my place to say so. Jason has a better grasp of the situation. It’s certainly not up to me to tell him what he needs. However, we are all hanging on by our fingertips and have to help each other when we can. There are very few surviving groups left. We may not repopulate the earth in my generation, or perhaps ever, but I’d like to think that we can establish sanctuaries that have some degree of security.

“Have they attempted to attack the base directly?” I ask.

“They tried getting into the perimeter once a while ago, but we managed to hold them off. We lost a few folks on that one, and several afterwards when we were intercepted. Like I said, we’re just a grouping of families here, Jack. We don’t have the expertise or firepower. We run patrols around the wire but I don’t know if we can hold them off should they try again. Luckily, following their attempt to get inside, they’ve kept to harassing us out on the roads,” Jason answers.

“How many do you think there are?” Gonzalez chimes in.

“I really wouldn’t know. I might hazard a guess of fifty or more. My dollar would be on more,” Jason replies.

I’m still not getting how fifty armed and highly trained soldiers wouldn’t make a difference. From my perspective, if they went out with the new additions and were intercepted, they would be able to fight the marauders off and farm as needed. It’s been my experience that bandits are basically bullies, and when confronted with someone or something more powerful than themselves, they’ll move elsewhere. Maybe it’s just me and I’m not getting it. Surely the soldier we left here with his family would think this way. Perhaps they’ve resigned themselves to making a run for it, or their self-confidence has been beaten down to such a point that they don’t even think in those terms.

“You say you are getting intercepted whenever you leave the base. How long from when you depart until they show up?” I ask.

“I would say within thirty minutes, sir,” the soldier answers.

“Okay. That means they have someone on lookout, at least during the day,” I say.

“That would be my guess. The best place would be along the riverbank to the south. We keep an eye out there, but we haven’t seen anything,” the soldier comments.

“That would most likely place them within a fifteen-mile radius. Robert, would you go grab a chart of the area from the aircraft?”

While Robert is fetching the map, I turn to Jason, unable to stay quiet any longer. “You know, Jason. I know it’s none of my business, but I feel I have to at least mention it. Those fifty trained soldiers would, or I should say could, pretty much eliminate the problem you’re having here.”

The soldier nods, and Jason replies. “Don’t think I haven’t thought of that, Jack. It’s just that I have enough going on with those already here. I don’t want to be responsible for any more, should things not work out.”

Okay, I see it now. He’s having a hard time of it. He feels responsible for the folks he has with him and doesn’t want the added obligation. I get the impression that he’s reached his limit. I understand that; the constant stress and watching people you know die will do that. On the other hand, it seems he should welcome anything that seemed like salvation, if that’s even the right word. Stress like what we have gone through can drive you down so deep that you can’t, or don’t want to, see a solution. It can take the fight right out of you. I get the feeling that Jason has reached that point and I don’t blame him. I’m pretty much done with all of this shit as well.

Robert returns, interrupting any reply I might have made. I just nod my understanding and spread the map on a table.

“Okay, let’s start with their thirty-minute response time. Again, that means they probably have a lookout set and have radio communications. We’ll start with that assumption. Counting the time it takes to mount up and travel, that should, again, place them within a fifteen-mile radius,” I state, drawing a circle around the base to that distance.

Looking closely at the map, I don’t see anything within the circle that draws my attention as being a place where a group that size could hole up. The thought crosses my mind to task a satellite to get a more detailed look, but that would consume fuel we could put to better use, mainly the night runners to the north of our compound. That has never left my mind, and although we could be of help here, I am anxious to get home. The only place of interest that lies within my drawn circle is the town of Mountain Home itself. With the night runner population, I have a hard time believing that the bandits would be taking refuge there.

“Jason, do you have an atlas or road map anywhere?” I ask.

“Yeah. We have several,” he answers, and departs to get one.

Upon his return, we go through the same process, comparing both maps. There’s nothing within that radius except empty fields. I was hoping to find a hotel along the road, or something similar. There is absolutely nothing.

“Do you know anything in the area, other than something close to the city, which would support a group of that size? A hotel, even a school?” I ask Jason.

He thinks for a moment before replying, “No, I can’t really think of anything like that. Most of the area around here is farmland. I don’t even think there’s anything like that by any of the reservoirs.”

“Okay. Let me throw this out, then. How about just packing up and coming with us?” I ask, and detail all that has happened since we met last.

Upon finishing, Jason and the soldier sit stunned by our revelations. They both stare at the tabletop, lost in thought. Jason finally shakes his head, returning to the present.

“That’s, um, quite something. I knew humankind was capable of some bad things, but I would never have imagined someone could, or would, do anything like that,” he states. “About leaving, that may be the solution that is best for us. I’d have to talk it over with the others. I won’t lie; it would be difficult leaving what we’ve built here. If the bandits weren’t around, we could make a pretty decent go of it.”

“I completely understand. I’m contemplating relocating to the bunker and am having the same internal issues. It’s hard to walk away from something you’ve built up,” I reply. “How about this, then? As we can’t find anything worthwhile as a base of operations on the maps, we’ll take a flight and scout the area. While we’re out, you have a talk with your people here and see if they’re amenable to going with us. We can talk when we return and come up with a solution,” I say.

“Okay, Jack. That will give us some time to digest what you’ve told us. This morning, I was only thinking about our water ration and then you flew in. It’s a lot to take in. However, having said that, I think the people here will be agreeable to anything that would extricate them from this mess,” Jason responds.

“All right, until we return then. Robert, you and Bri go start prepping the aircraft. I need to go find the teams and brief them,” I say, rising.

On the tarmac outside, the sun has risen a little higher in the bright blue sky. My story took some time and I have a feeling that’s something we may not have a lot of. It always seems as if we’re pushing up against a time issue; there’s never enough of it and far too much to do. I wouldn’t call this a distraction, but it does seem like something always comes up that pushes our schedule back.

“Well, Gonzalez, what do you think?” I ask, as we make our way to the others in the hangar.

“I think he’s stressed to the point where he can’t make a decision. I’ve seen it too many times before not to recognize it,” she answers.

“I agree. It’s always seems to be that fine line of helping others versus taking care of our own,” I state.

“That’s true, sir. We can’t own everyone else’s problems to the extent that we don’t see to our own. And we have enough of those,” she responds.