Carlie Simmons (Book 3): The Way Back (15 page)

Chapter 35

In the month that followed, Eliza grew
more at ease with herself in the outdoors, learning a medley of woodsmanship
skills from anyone who would teach her. It was a fascinating world that she
knew nothing about and her eagerness to try new things made her a willing
participant. She accompanied Darcy and the more experienced hunters in the
mornings, learning how to track, stalk, and butcher wild game. The afternoons
were spent with Mitch learning how to fish, mend gill nets, sharpen axes, and undertaking
the never-ending chore of woodcutting, always in search of non-coniferous trees,
which helped to reduce the smoke signature around the camp. The evenings
involved preparing meals over the campfire and filling the smoke shack with
more strips of venison and fish filets. Living off the land was a full-time,
exhausting job but her enthusiasm made the days sail by and kept her mind from
dwelling on the horrors of the recent past. Without drawing attention to her
interest, she tried to glean what she could about the status of Fort Lewis and
the route there. A few people had mentioned that the base was still operational
from infrequent radio chatter they’d heard but the southernmost roads were
choked with abandoned vehicles or were impassable due to bridges that had been
blown by marauders. People were trying to forget about the dreadfulness of life
outside of this small community and were transfixed with improving their dwellings
before the full onslaught of winter. She felt an urgency to press on northward
but needed to wait until she could discover what she was waiting for her at the
other end and, most importantly, how she could get there on her own. 

As the weeks went by, Eliza slowly found
herself spiritually replenished by the simple act of working with her hands out
on the land. While she had previously learned how to use her knife for
fighting, she now discovered how to carve traps, whittle utensils, filet fish,
and process wild game that they had obtained with their rifles. Her hands grew
calloused and were often spotted black from the residue of pine sap. She
marveled at the rugged exterior of her leathery palms which had formerly been
so soft from their weekly manicures.

As fall transitioned into early winter,
she grew more confident in her outdoor abilities but knew that it was only the
beginning of what could be a long apprenticeship and one she wasn’t ready to
commit to yet as her thoughts frequently turned to Fort Lewis. With each day,
as her technical abilities grew, she reveled in her identity as ‘Eliza, the new
girl’ as everyone referred to her. No political facades to maintain, no hidden
agendas, and no reporters probing into every excruciating detail of her life. It
was the first time in her life that she felt truly accepted by a group and she
felt her former identity being slowly replaced by one that bore a freedom of
expression untethered by politics or fabricated perceptions.

****

The last leaves had fallen from the oak
trees and with it came the chill of a mid-November breeze. After another day
working in the forest, Eliza sat alone in the cabin beside the fireplace,
staring into the fading embers as the wood hissed and snapped. The flames
burnished the roughhewn timber walls behind her with an amber color. The past
few weeks had been idyllic and she felt a deep peace settle over her as she
fell into the daily rhythm of life under open skies. But the gnawing sensation
of her hidden past and the mysterious laptop in her possession kept eroding her
newfound freedom until she couldn’t ignore them any longer. She felt at war
within herself as her feelings oscillated between guilt at staying in this
forest sanctuary enjoying her anonymity and the sense of responsibility to
fulfil her father’s final wish.

She let out a long sigh and then ran her
hand along the back of her neck.
Does the laptop even matter any longer?
What was so important that my father requested me to get it safely to Fort
Lewis? Maybe the scientists there have already uncovered what they needed elsewhere.
Why did this have to be in my possession? If only it had burned up with Air
Force One then I could stay put in this small community…yet my father thought
it was important enough to bring with him.

She heard the creaky wooden door open as
Darcy entered, carrying an armload of split aspen. The older woman placed the
logs in the corner and then sat on a circular wooden stool next to Eliza.

“How long before the heavy snows arrive
here in these mountains?”

“You mean how long before you can no
longer get out of here and have to wait until the spring to leave?” said Darcy,
removing her wool hat and gloves.

Eliza looked at her with a puzzled
expression and then returned to staring into the fire, not sure what to say.

“I’ve seen how you grow distant in the
evenings around the campfire and know your thoughts are pulled away to the
northwest—to Fort Lewis.”

“How did you…”

“You have bad dreams some nights and you
have spoken about Fort Lewis a few times and also about someone named Willis.
Is that where you were headed before you ran into us?”

Eliza clasped her fingers together and
then looked up at Darcy, whose face was aglow in the small flames darting out
from the fireplace. “Yes, he…” she hesitated saying his name, “…he and I were
headed to Fort Lewis. We were, uhm, going to…” Eliza cleared her throat and
then tried again. “It’s just that we…” She was never good at lying and her
friends had always jokingly said she should never venture into politics.

Darcy rubbed her rosy cheeks and placed
her chilled hands near the edge of the fireplace then looked back towards
Eliza. “Look, sweetie, I don’t need to know why. I’m sure you had good intentions.
All that matters anymore is finding a reason to live and making it stick—and
that reason is going to be different for everybody. It’s not enough to just
survive—what’s the point of eking out an existence if you’ve got nothing to aim
for? I’ve told you before that you’re welcome to stay here with us as long as
you want but the window for leaving this mountainous region before we’re buried
in snow is closing fast.” Darcy leaned forward towards Eliza. “You’d be better
riding it out here until April when the weather will be more hospitable unless
you’ve got a pressing reason to move on.”

“What would I find along the way? Are
there any small towns or is it all sprawling metropolis?”

“Two-thirds of the route would be rural
but that last stretch would put you in the suburbs—there is one route I have
outlined in red on the map in my truck that was passable last I heard.” Darcy
sighed and pursed her lower lip. “Look, you seem like a stubborn woman, much
like myself, who’s gonna do what she needs to do regardless of the advice
pouring in her ears.” Darcy frowned, hesitating to continue. “I could take you
as far as Highway 12. That would put you about 70 miles southeast of Fort
Lewis. We just don’t have the fuel to do the trip all the way there and I’m not
even sure the roads are traversable from the mass exodus out of Seattle.”

“I wouldn’t want to put you at risk. I
would do this myself.”

“You saved our lives, dear. You saved me.
It’s the least I can do, especially for Eliza Huntington.”

Eliza jerked her head sideways towards
Darcy and then she studied the woman’s face, wondering what was coming next.
She began to get up but was caught by Darcy’s hand on her shoulder.

“It’s OK, your secret is safe with me.”

Eliza sat back down and stared into the
fire. “How long have you known?”

“A few days after being back here. There
was something about your slight accent that stuck with me and then I remembered
a speech I heard that President Huntington gave before the collapse. It was
that same subtle Boston inflection and it clicked with what I remembered about
a news article about you being at the University of Arizona.”

Darcy reached beside her leg and grabbed
her water bottle, taking a drink. “You were headed to Fort Lewis all along, is
that it?”

Eliza nodded, her stomach sinking as if
she was back on Air Force One as it spiraled downward. “There are some days you
wish you could rewrite in your life and there have certainly been a few dark
ones during this long, cold fall.”

“You’re here, Eliza. You made it. You
survived through it all and you’re still here. I think that’s providence.
However bitter the fruit may seem that fell in your hands at this moment in
life, maybe this is the road you were supposed to walk all along.”

She rested her hand over Darcy’s and
smiled. “You’re one of a kind, Darcy, and a good woman. I will miss you the
most when I’m gone.”

“I can recognize pain and longing, and
yours runs the deepest out of everyone here. I know you have to go.” She pulled
her silver hair loose from the ponytail and shook her head. “Well,
if
that time comes—note my optimism that you will stay longer—I hope you are not
gone for long. You fit right in here.”

Eliza shoved a few more logs on the fire
and then resumed sitting as Darcy asked her some questions about her father,
what she knew about any cure for the virus, and how she had come to be in
Idaho. As the dance of flames grew slimmer over the next two hours, Eliza
explained what she knew about the outbreak and the plane crash as Darcy sat in
silence, prodding the embers on occasion with a metal poker. As each parcel of
information was revealed, Eliza felt like a massive boulder had been removed
from her back, her true self finally being revealed. It also made her feel more
vulnerable with regards to how the others in camp would view her and it further
galvanized her plans to leave for Fort Lewis.

With the logs reduced to blood-orange
coals in the fireplace, Darcy stood up and stretched, letting out a squeaky
yawn. “I am tired from all of the woodcutting today, not to mention all the
info you’ve filled my head with. I think I’ll sack out.”

“Not me, I’m gonna stay awake all night
and make sure I don’t talk in my sleep anymore,” said Eliza with a chuckle. An
hour later, after Darcy was sound asleep, Eliza grabbed her pack full of food,
the laptop, and extra clothing and slid out the cabin door with the truck keys
she had removed from Darcy’s coat.

The night air was crisp as she quietly made
her way through the camp to a narrow trail that descended through the forest,
her boots flowing over the oak leaves strewn on the path. The full moon provided
her with enough light to navigate along the faint but now-familiar trail. She
stopped periodically to gather some pine sap which she had used in the past as
an antiseptic along with picking clumps of
usnea longissima
lichens
which she was depended on for an antibacterial gauze and even for firestarting
tinder. An hour later, she arrived at the vehicles two miles down the mountain.
She removed the multi-cam netting from a dinged-up green F-150 pickup and opened
the creaky door, tossing her swollen backpack and rifle inside. Eliza heard a
barred owl hooting in the conifers to her rear and paused to look up at the
night sky, noticing the Big Dipper and then tracing her eyes up to the location
of the North Star. The stars were twinkling furiously and she knew that such a
sign meant it would be windy in the coming days as high winds aloft descend.
She raised a boot up on the dirt-encrusted step of the truck, inhaling the deep
fragrance of the scented conifers one last time before climbing inside and
keying the ignition. The headlights sliced through the darkness along the snaky
dirt road as she made her way down the mountain while the occasional feathery
snowflake drifted past the windshield.

Chapter 36

Carlie’s introduction to Lavine was
unimpressive as the man casually shook her hand when he entered the room while
muttering, “Good job down there in the jungle,” his voice flavored with
indifference. She had never met the man before during her work with the Secret
Service but had heard from other agents that he was a soulless number-cruncher who
preferred his flow charts over reality. It was well known that he had a kind of
perverse encouragement with his personal advisors whom he’d often praise and
belittle in the same sentence, not to mention possessing an L.B.J.-like appetite
for the younger female staffers. It was rumored that he and President
Huntington had a pleasant working relationship early on but that had quickly
eroded to enmity between the two men and the president was quietly considering
a replacement. She paid little heed to Lavine and knew it was probably the
likes of Duncan, with his extensive combat experience, that she’d look to for getting
up to speed on real-world events since her return.

Carlie and her group spent the next four
hours relating their field experiences and intel about the virus with Duncan
and his two Special Forces teams, Lavine, and half a dozen medical researchers.

Pavel took the lead during the discussions
on viral transmission and the scope of the pandemic, reviewing his early
research and the possibility of isolating an antidote if they could locate the
Annoric Cold-Weather BioFacility.

“The fact is,” he concluded, “that if we
can obtain the original samples stored at Annoric, then that will provide me
with a crucial baseline for working with this modified strain and initiating
work on a vaccine.”

“How long to develop an antidote once you
have what you need?” said Duncan.

Pavel looked around the room at the new
faces and then back at Carlie and the others whom he had already discussed this
with in great detail over their many seaside campfires together. “Six months of
research, at least.”

“And then after that, we’d have to figure
out how to distribute it en masse,” said the sec-def, who was sitting at the
end of the table, rapidly tapping a pencil on the veneered surface.

When Pavel was finished the entire group
took a two-hour break while Duncan conferred with the sec-def. After
reconvening, Duncan stood up and moved to the podium, pulling up a map of
Alaska on the PowerPoint screen behind him. There were three areas circled in
red outside of Fairbanks. Two had question marks inside them and the other had
an X running through it.

“Annoric was a government subcontractor
employed by the CIA. Their primary job was to serve as a level-four secure
repository for bioweapons that the agency either formulated themselves for research,”
his fingers forming air-quotes at the latter term, “or that they procured from less
stable regimes around the world.”

He raised his hand up to the farthest red
circle northeast of Fairbanks. “We will start with this one first as SAT
imagery indicates that this facility’s power grid is still online. Once this storm
front along the west coast and B.C. clears, my team will deploy seven days from
now for Fairbanks where we will link up with Eielson Air Force Base on the
outskirts of that city. From there, we will insert via helo if the weather is
favorable.”

“Given that Annoric is a high-level
facility, what is your plan for breaching the compound?” said Jared. “That
place probably has the most cutting-edge security system in the world.”

“That’s the crapshoot part of this
operation. No codes, no access. We’re hoping we can make contact with any staff
inside, if they’re alive, and proceed from there. If not, then this whole trip
may be for naught as the amount of ordinance it would take to breach that place
wouldn’t leave much intact. Gaining entry is imperative.”