A New World: Sanctuary (35 page)

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Authors: John O'Brien

BOOK: A New World: Sanctuary
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I gradually pull very lightly on the collective and feel the Kiowa go light on the skids with each skid tapping on the paved tarmac below me in intervals.
 
The helicopter starts sliding to the left and I correct with the stick to the right.
 
An over correction and I start off to the right.
 
I eventually bring the slide to a stop with the skids still light on the ground.
 
I now know why they call them skids.
 
I pull a little more on the collective and the helicopter rises from the pavement.
 
I remember one pilot saying to just imagine or think yourself hovering – that you just have to think about moving and the helicopter will respond to the subtle inputs your mind sends to your hands - or sliding in one direction.
 
Well, I must have been thinking I wanted to be waaaay over to the right because that’s where I go.

I try to bring the slide under control and once again over correct and am now looking at the ramp slide underneath me as I slide to the left in the same manner.
 
I lower the collective as I try to correct that stellar move and the helicopter slams onto the tarmac like a bag of garbage being thrown in a trash bin.
 
Okay, that was fun
, I think collecting my thoughts once again.
 
I look over at the others and see McCafferty with her hand over her mouth obviously stifling a laugh.
 
Gonzalez on the other hand, is doubled over at the front of the Humvee.
 
It’s also pretty obvious the others are laughing as well.
 
I’m glad they find this amusing
, I think steeling myself for try number two.

My second attempt to not change the sky to ground is a repeat of the first but without the absolute shock of the helicopter being deposited on the ramp.
 
The next several attempts also give Red Team an ab workout but I’m eventually able to keep the helicopter within the county and hover reasonably well.
 
I thought fighters were touchy with the controls but this thing is like having an Xbox controller on the most extreme sensitivity setting.
 
Wow!
 
When things have the feeling of getting out of control, I just deposit it back on the tarmac and start over.
 
Eventually, I am able to keep it close to being in one place and try a couple of pedal turns.
 
Now, that’s pretty cool.
 
I slowly get the feel of the controls, even venturing forward a few times, stopping, and easing the chopper to the ground.
 
That doesn’t mean I won’t have to remove the seat cushion.
 
If I didn’t actually suck it up internally, then I know there will at least be a little white ring on it.

I eventually shut the helicopter down and step out after the blades come to a stop.
 
The others meander over.

“Damn, sir, you should at least apologize to the poor thing after abusing it like that,” Gonzalez says stepping close.

“Or at least buy it dinner first next time,” Henderson says close on her heels.

“Well aren’t you two just the comedic duo,” I say.
 
“Anyone else have anything to say?
 
Come on, get it out.”

“No, sir.
 
You won’t hear me saying anything like it was like watching a blind bird trying to land in a tree.
 
Nope, wouldn’t say anything like that,” McCafferty says.

I can tell Robert wants to join in on the “make fun of me” session but keeps quiet.
 
We head back with Robert asking how it was.

“It’s touchy as hell,” I answer.

“Um, yeah, I could tell,” he says.

We pull into the lot where a lot more equipment and vehicles are parked off to the other side of the Humvees and transport trucks.
 
Semi’s and large, truck-mounted cranes dominate the parking lot.
 
The appearance of them shows that the teams have been mostly successful, if not fully, at finding the equipment on Bannerman’s list.
 
That’s good news as we can begin fortifying our place tomorrow.
 
I’m pleased but there’s still a place inside that is really missing Nic and wishes she were here to enjoy this moment with me.

The sun is lowering in the late afternoon sky as I step out of the Humvee.
 
I feel tired but there’s a touch of excitement as well.
 
It looks like we have the tools to begin this next phase of building a place of refuge; a place where we can feel safe.
 
It’s hard to think that just a few days ago we were travelling from place to place trying to get back.
 
The events of that trip have faded to a degree making it seem like they took place a long time ago.
 
For the first time in a long time, even in the presence of grief, I feel a sense of contentment; content that we seem to be making a lot of headway.
 
Not as far as where we are, we still have a long ways to go and don’t truly know what the future looks like, but in as far as where we are going.
 
It remains to be seen if that contentment will increase or decrease with the degree and speed that the wall is built.

Lynn is still camped by the chair where she was when we left.
 
The only difference is the amount of sheets lying on the side of the table covered with writing.
 
She looks up as we approach.

“So, how’d it go, flyboy?”
 
She asks.

“Is everyone going to be a comedian today?”
 
I ask in return.

“Oh, that well huh?”

“Well, I didn’t kill anyone or damage anything if that means anything,” I reply.

“Other than his pride and possibly one very undeserving helicopter,” Gonzalez quips in behind me.

“It went fine.
 
I’ll be back at it tomorrow,” I say ignoring the peanut gallery behind me.
 
“How are things here?”

“Just fine.
 
Most of the others pulled in a little while ago.
 
We have one team still out looking for the portable generators,” Lynn answers.

“And you?”
 
I ask.

“Doing pretty well.
 
I have it mostly finished and will be ready to start soon,” she replies.

“Good,” I say and am about to say more when the sound of a vehicle nearing interrupts.

We all look to the long drive to see a Humvee crest the hill.
 
As it pulls past, I notice it’s towing a wheeled generator.
 
Things are definitely looking up.
 
The confidence I feel in our group increases.
 
We’ll be okay
, I think watching the vehicle park.
 
As long as our security measures hold up and we don’t make any mistakes
.
 
Yes, there will be difficulties as we venture into buildings for supplies.
 
The long-term supplies, growing our own food and such, will be a learning process, but for the short-term, we should be okay
.

I lean over, give Lynn a kiss on the cheek, and head inside.
 
There are several team members pulling the large centerpiece apart and carrying the pieces outside.
 
I see others manhandling several large commercial washer and dryer machines against one of the outer walls.
 
I feel a little guilty for spending the day trying to fly an aircraft, one with the propeller in entirely the wrong place, seeing all of the work that the others have accomplished today but I also know that, should we need it, that skill will be a valuable one to have.

The rest of the day passes with more sorting of equipment and finally removing the last parts of the centerpiece.
 
The center is now clear for any purpose we desire.
 
The smell of dinner being warmed up wafts through the building as our small group meets again.
 
Robert is off talking with Michelle and I wave him and Bri over.
 
I want them to be a part of our meetings as you never know when learning will take place.
 
I plan to take some time with them for additional training when things settle into a semblance of equilibrium and after their initial training with Lynn.

“Did we get everything we need to start tomorrow?”
 
I ask as we draw together.

“As near as I can tell,” Bannerman answers.
 
“Of course, there will always be odds and ends that we’ll find we need along the way.”

“Nicely done,” I say with the others nodding.

“Lynn?”
 
I ask wanting to hear her report.

“I’ve finished with what I think preliminary training should encompass.
 
It’s a scaled down version of boot camp without the breaking down phase.
 
I’m emphasizing weapons training, tactics, and conditioning along with a survival phase,” she says.

“Great.
 
Need any help with it?”
 
I ask.

“I did put together a secondary training course that I want everyone to go through at some point.
 
You can help with that.
 
It will be more of small unit tactics, stealth, and small unit leadership,” she answers.
 
“I haven’t put together any of the nightly training as yet but will make an announcement for folks to be prepared to teach a class in something they know.”

“Excellent,” I say.

“And you?
 
How did your day go?”
 
Lynn asks.

“Yeah, well.
 
It was, um, interesting.
 
It’ll take some time before I’m comfortable and I’ll leave it at that.
 
I plan to be back up there tomorrow and will take Red Team with me so if we need help anywhere, give us a call," I answer.
 
"Frank, what do you have?' I ask.

“We tested the radios and were able to communicate with the teams out to a considerable distance today so we should be good.
 
We located some maps of the area and have them tacked down on a table by the radios.
 
We’ll be able to keep track of the teams and people,” Franks answers.

“Make sure we have the teams report in hourly and the drivers report leaving and arriving at each location,” I add.

“I’ll brief everyone,” Lynn says.

“Oh, we might want to pick up some chainsaws along with oil and gas.
 
We’ll need to cut the trees down away from the wall so the night runners can’t climb them and vault over,” I say.
 
Bannerman picks up his well-used pad and pen to make a note.
 
“I think we should also rotate the teams out gathering supplies with the standby team.”

“Sounds good to me,” Drescoll says.

“Anything I missed or that we need to talk about?”
 
I ask.

“I think we’re good,” Bannerman answers.

“I can’t think of anything,” Lynn replies.
 
Drescoll and Frank shake their heads.

We adjourn and I walk up to the roof sitting on the same pipe as before.
 
Robert and Bri join me.
 
We sit in silence and watch the sun drop below the trees to the west.
 
The mass of vehicles below us are mostly out of sight, hidden by the roof edge.
 
The roof edge
, I think gazing across the grass fields surrounding the parking lots and stretching to the trees in the distance.
 
I make a mental note to talk with Bannerman about putting an overhang over the edges so the night runners can’t scale the sides.
 
I still don’t know how they managed it but I put nothing past their abilities anymore.
 
I’m sure there will be more surprises in store and I hope we’ll be able to meet them.

The shadows of the evergreens in the distance spread across the fields below us marking the slow transition of day towards night.
 
I think about the lots below us filled with night runners as the night envelops us.
 
I wonder how long they will continue coming to this building if they aren’t able to get in.
 
Are they able to recognize and understand defeat and gradually drift away and stop trying?
 
Do they know to stop trying?
 
How intelligent are they?
 
Or will their persistence remain and continue with their nightly attempts because they don’t know any other way?
 
Do they feel compelled to continue?
 
These thoughts drift through my mind as the sun sinks lower in the sky and behind the mountains.
 
I enjoy being up here at this time of day with Robert and Bri and would like to make this a nightly ritual.
 
A time for just us to be together.

The sun slides down behind the mountains sending a last ray across the orange-lit horizon.
 
The ray signals that our time of the day has gone and the time of the night runners has begun.
 
We stand as one and bid the day farewell, each in our own way.
 
After sealing the doors closed, we head to the restaurant for dinner.
 
I pass by Bannerman mentioning the roof edges.
 
As with the nights before, our evening meal becomes momentarily interrupted by the first of the attempts by night runners.
 
The resounding echo reminds us that we are far from being out of danger.

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