A New World 10 - Storm (9 page)

“What do you think we should do here?” I ask.

“I think we should see what we see and go from there. It would be easier if they’d just come with us and we could be done with it,” Gonzalez comments.

“True enough. But that would still leave us with soldiers that need dispersing. And, as much as I’d like to tell them to get aboard, it's not really our place to say.”

“No, sir. But, if I can be blunt, that doesn’t mean that we have to do anything. I’m not saying we shouldn’t help or that we don’t have an obligation, but as much as I hate to say it, doing nothing is an option in this case,” she states.

“It is, but there aren’t enough of us remaining to really have that kind of open choice. We can't afford to sacrifice the few left alive. It’s hard to figure what the right thing to do is sometimes.”

“Well, if you want my opinion, sir, we can’t lose ourselves in the process. And, by that, I mean the core of who we are. If we lose that, we have lost regardless of what we do,” Gonzalez states, stopping to lock eyes with me. “If we go down, at least we do it fighting, and with a clear conscience.”

“Thank you for reminding me, Gonzalez. I forget that sometimes,” I say, returning her steady look.

“No worries, sir. Stress does that. I don’t envy you your position.”

“I sure miss the simpler times,” I say.

“Me too, sir…me too,” she almost sighs in response, as we continue across the ramp to the hangar.

I brief Horace on the situation and leave both teams on the ground with the soldiers. It will just be Robert, Bri, and me on the scouting mission. I don’t expect to find much of anything, but if what Jason said was true, and I have no reason to believe otherwise, the marauders have to be nearby. Wherever there are people, there are signs they leave behind. Even if we do find them, I’m of the opinion that it would be better for Jason and his group to come with us.

I’m not a big fan of bullies, well, being bullies and feel that they have no place in this world. The system has broken down and the survivors with that kind of mentality think they can do whatever they want; that the world is their playground. If we are to rebuild, if we are to have that opportunity, we have to do it with a sense of humanity. I realize that’s difficult with the current state of the world. The right thing to do gets muddled; at least it does in my mind. Gonzalez’s words about keeping our core intact come to mind, but I’m tired and there are pressing matters to see to at home.

It seems we’re always leaping from one fight to the next
, I think, climbing into the aircraft.
We won’t be able to do this much longer or we’ll all end up basket cases
.
Well, I’m already there, but the others will be following close behind.

Closing the ramp and strapping into my seat, I look at Robert and Bri. The odd thought occurs that they, along with those like Gonzalez, seem to be doing pretty well from a psychological standpoint. I don’t really see the stress in them that others are showing. And it’s not like they haven’t seen their share of combat, but they all seem to be taking things in stride. Of course, I can’t read their minds, but their outward appearances certainly seem to indicate that being true. Maybe it’s the different era we grew up in? Who knows?

I wonder what they have going that I don’t
, I think, starting the first engine.

Those thoughts vanish as we progress through the startup. Leaving a cloud of dust behind, we are soon airborne and heading east toward the city. It’s the most obvious place in the vicinity, although also the most improbable for any group to live. My plan is to be at altitude to take in more of the surrounding area, out of range of gunfire while still being able to identify any signs of life. I’ll fly out to fifteen miles and maintain that arc around the airbase. I don’t want to be overly obvious that we are searching for something, though that will be hard to avoid. Once we circle the airfield, I’ll fly out of view to a certain distance, and return. It may still be fairly obvious but I don’t see a way to prevent that.

Passing over the city, I don’t see anything that draws my attention. Most of the streets are covered with varying depths of dirt without a vehicle track to be seen. On some of the roads, vehicles are almost completely covered by large drifts of sand. I’m sure if I descended a few hundred feet, I’d be able to make out pathways created by night runners. However, I’m searching for vehicle tracks and I don’t want to drop down into the range of small arms fire.

Swinging to the north of the field, the landscape below is a barren wasteland without a structure to be seen. The interstate leading out of the city to the northwest and southeast is only discernable by a faint raised section of dirt. Travel along the roads in this area seems like it would be difficult without a 4WD option and plenty of clearance.

Swinging to the west, the remains of circular crops sit astride the Snake River. There is one section that remains green and I assume that’s where Jason and his group started their farming efforts. Near the river itself, just across a bridge, is a very small town with what appears to be a quarry to the south. From the farm to the town, there appears to be sporadic vehicle tracks, but they aren’t fresh and almost impossible to determine their origin.

With the exception of faint trails leading through the small town, it looks similar to the larger city: Streets filled with dirt and debris, vehicles partially hidden beneath drifts, piles of sand stacked against buildings. I mark the location as a potential even though there aren’t fresh signs of people. It could be that they only come out at times to check on the fields.

So far, we’ve just been drilling holes in the sky without much to show for it other than a slight possibility. There aren’t any dust trails being flung into the air from vehicles traveling the dry ground below, or any other recent signs. It’s beginning to look like we’ll have to convince Jason to come back with us and figure out something else for the soldiers. The men and women haven’t complained or shown any signs of anything but compliance, however, my trust factor still isn’t at an all-time high.

Keeping my distance, I follow the river south to where it flows into several reservoirs. If we don’t see anything once we make our loop, I’ll make a run along the riverbank south of the base to see if I can spot anyone observing. Looking ahead to plan our route, I’m startled by Bri’s voice on the intercom.

“Dad, what’s that?”

I look back at her and follow her finger to our left. It’s hard to discern anything in the landscape below, but there are a couple of buildings near where she is indicating. One of them, near the lake and adjacent to what must have once been a country highway, has a large number of vehicles parked in the lot. Compared with what we’ve seen in the world around, it seems like a few more than there should be. More importantly, there are fresh tracks along a dirt road to the north and on the highway heading southeast. Unless I miss my guess, this must be where the bandits are holding out. It’s not a sure thing, but I don’t see that it could be anything else. If it was another group of survivors, surely they would have contacted Jason by now.

Without deviating from our flight path so as not to raise suspicion, I focus on the building and its surroundings, logging the details in my mind. Many of the vehicles are motorcycles or pickups. I can’t imagine the bikes could travel the roads, but they’re there. Most of the tracks are side-by-side, which indicates that they mostly use the trucks. The multi-story building looks like a school. There isn’t the football field usually associated with one, but that’s the impression I get nonetheless. I don’t see anyone outside moving around, but we are a little distance away. Regardless, the fresh tracks speak for themselves – people are there.

Surrounding the facility are fields that once were crops of some sort, but are now just overgrown stalks. The building slides underneath our wing. I continue our flight until we reach the city, not once sighting an actual person or the dust trail of a moving vehicle. Turning east, I fly until I’m sure we’re out of sight and earshot from where we saw the building. I’m sure they’ll know we returned if they have a spotter, but I want it to look like a normal flight as much as possible, one in which we didn’t find anything interesting. If there was anyone in the facility, I’m sure they heard us, but there isn’t any sense in making it easier. Now, it’s just a matter of what to do with the information. It may be that we land, talk with Jason, load up, and head on our merry way. I’m not sure at this point how things will pan out.

It’s nearing midday as we land, taxi in, and shut down. It will be interesting to see what the others in Jason’s group have decided. Even though bullies like those across the river need to be taken care of at some point, I’m hoping that the folks here have decided to join up with us so we can clear out. Jason and Gonzalez meet us at the aircraft and we adjourn to our previous room. As we settle into our seats, I brief the others on what we found.

“There it is in a nutshell. It’s not certain it’s the group that has been harassing you, but I can’t think of who else it could be,” I state. “How did your discussion go?”

“Well, not as well as I had hoped, to be honest. Many of us are split about what we should do. Some of them want to stay and take in the soldiers, make a go of it. There are others who want nothing more than to leave. A few are even arguing both sides. However, one thing is clear; they are all of the opinion that breaking up our group is not an option. What one does, we all do,” Jason comments. “If some of us depart, that will leave those behind with woefully small numbers. I know that isn’t really an answer and not what you were hoping to hear. It kind of leaves us right back where we started.”

“If I could say something, you could make a command decision and tell them what you’re going to do,” Gonzalez chimes in.

“See, therein may lay the problem. I’m not exactly sure what the best thing for us to do is,” Jason states. “I’m afraid that whatever decision I make will be the wrong one.”

I can certainly understand that
, I think.

“Look, Jason, I don’t want to seem like an asshole here but, well, it’s obvious your current situation isn’t going to work. The way I see it, you really only have three choices: You could do nothing, which will mean that you run out of fuel, and therefore access to water. That’s not really much of an option. The second is, you could accept the soldiers and deal with the problem; or third, you could come with us,” I say.

I don’t want to make him angry, but I also don’t want to dawdle around while they talk about a decision they may never make. If we don’t turn around and head back to the bunker soon, we’ll be stuck for another night. It’s already beginning to look like that may happen and I’m not very happy about it. Jason hangs his head as if I admonished him. That certainly wasn’t my intention and it's a sign of just how stressed and weary he is. Of course, I’m not that great at phrasing things in a politically correct manner, especially when I’m tired and stressed myself…meaning cranky.

“First of all, you’re right. The first isn’t an option. And I appreciate the offer of the soldiers. Like I mentioned before, I don’t really want to take on the added responsibility. If I were to be honest, if something happened to them, I’m not sure how I would take it. Besides, we’ve lost a few folks, many of them with prior military experience. I wouldn’t have the first idea of how to command such troops,” Jason comments.

“You wouldn’t necessarily have to do that. You have others who can lead them,” I say, nodding toward the soldier who remained.

The soldier laughs and shakes his head. “Sir, I was just a private and wouldn’t have the first clue. Well, perhaps the first one, but definitely not the second.”

“There are those with the soldi…” I start, only to be interrupted by Gonzalez.

“Sir, there may be another way. If we could speak about it in private.”

I nod, and we step outside into the hallway. “Okay, Gonzalez, what is it?”

“Sir, we could help them clear the marauders out and then leave them with the troops,” she states.

“That’s a pretty risky option. We only have two teams,” I reply.

“We could use the troops we brought with us, sir.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” I state.

“You have to start the trust somewhere.”

“Okay, let me run this past you. Not a day ago, we were locked in combat against them. We don’t know them or what they’re thinking. What if they decide to head off on their own…while we’re out in the field? They outnumber us, a lot to a few,” I say.

“In their defense, sir, and I’m not arguing the point with you, but they didn’t know what they were defending. Besides, they’re soldiers. They wouldn’t do that. Call it a gut feeling.”

I have to admit that this weighs heavily on me. I want to trust them, but to do so would put us at great risk. One that I’m not sure I want to take.

Seeing my hesitance, she continues. “If I could speak frankly.” That phrase has always scared the shit out of me. “And I don’t mean any disrespect. I know you are just trying to do right by the teams and the entire compound. Helping these people out feels like the right thing to do and sometimes you have to jump in with both boots…sir.”

The problem is, she’s right. It does feel like the right thing to do. That doesn’t mean I have to like it though. I think it’s my fear of failure coming to the forefront. I don’t want to make a wrong decision that jeopardizes the teams. If it were just me, I’d probably be beating feet to the southwest the moment we landed. There’s just so much that could go wrong from a momentary lapse in reasoning. I try not to let that affect my decision-making process, but it’s there nonetheless. In the past, if I ever came around to second-guessing my decisions, I would revert to the one that felt right…the instinctual one. Whether it made sense or not. My gut hasn’t failed me yet. Gonzalez is correct; this is the right thing to do. If we lose our humanity, we’ve lost everything important.