Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) (6 page)

“Dad, can I look around?” asked Adam.

“Are you on duty?” asked John.

Adam looked at Pete sheepishly and said, “Suppose so.”

“Well then, check with your commander,” replied John.

“Pete, can I look around . . . I’ll take Corbin and Marcus with me.”

“Corbin’s on watch,” said Pete, “but you can take Marcus. I don’t want you going in the house or the barn, not without me or your dad. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Adam, and he walked off after grabbing Corbin by the arm.

“Are they behaving?” asked Jenna, as she walked up to join in on the conversation.

“Are you kidding me, they’re awesome. I couldn’t have asked for a better crew. If anything, they’re a little over eager, but that I can manage,” replied Pete.

They talked a bit more about the things they saw on the way, like the smoke rising up from what had to be the direction of Decatur. Then, when the little ones came up asking for food, the party broke up and began to prepare lunch.

It was a warm day despite the season. The sun looked down on them like a large, cruel eye, daring them to regret it’s tentative light given the prevailing gray blanket the seemed only to pull away for a moment. John looked up at it and noticed long spears of light shooting out from the center. It reminded him of a special photographer’s lenses that could intentionally refract the light away. Only John held no special lenses to his eyes. He reasoned the refraction was caused by the crystalline debris in the upper atmosphere, and he wondered what other strange effects it would have on the world.

A gust of wind drew his attention away from the sun, and he began to study the strange, ribbon-like cloud formations that rippled and stretched high across the sky in long, undulating lines. The lack of jet contrails unnerved him a bit, their absence solidified the change in his mind, but he was curious about the satellites. Did the disaster affect them as well?

The air seemed pleasantly clear of ash, but there was a strange, sparkly quality to every reflective surface. It was like being under a layer of glass, or maybe cellophane. A glass dome, even. A low popping sound, distant but unmistakable, filled the air, and John heard Pete yell, “Aircraft! Everyone hide. Find cover . . . move people!” he added, when most of the company stopped to stare.

John took Jenna’s hand, and together they jogged over to the closest stand of trees. “I thought you said aircraft couldn’t fly in these conditions?” asked Jenna, as she pushed a small, low hanging branch out of her way to stand closer to John.

John grabbed the branch and broke it off at the trunk to remove it. He tossed it away and said, “You’re right. I did say that. I don’t know what the air quality is up there. Maybe it’s the same as down here. Or maybe they have special intake filters or something. I don’t know, but they’re not that high . . . less than a thousand feet. Maybe the no-fly rule is for big, multi-engine aircraft flying at higher altitudes. And there’s two of them by the sound of it,” added John.

Jenna looked toward the sound of the approaching helicopters and watched as they came into view and then clattered by, off in the distance. “Are those military choppers?” she asked.

“They are . . . army by the looks of them. And they’re in a hurry, too. You’re right though, it’s a huge risk to fly anything with a turbine engine in this environment. I’m guessing they’re on a priority mission.”

“Saving people should be a priority,” quipped Jenna.

“I agree,” said John. “But they’ll focus on saving VIPs first. They’re probably transporting one right now,” finished John.

Jenna grunted but said nothing. John sympathized with her disdain for the government and the military, how it seemed to be more concerned about taking care of itself than for helping people. John was used to such elitism, especially in the Army. There was a culture of privilege surrounding senior military officers and political leaders that reminded him of feudal Europe. It was as if, because of their status, they felt they deserved special treatment.

John knew good people in the military, leaders he was happy to sacrifice for because they gave of themselves tirelessly, but they were the exception rather than the rule. Most senior leaders he knew were bent on power, thinking themselves better than everyone below they were chosen to lead. Authority was a heady thing, and in John’s experience, it was rare to find a good leader that didn’t think more of himself than the troops he served.

When the helicopters passed their direct line of sight, Pete stepped out from behind his truck and scanned the horizon with his field glasses.
“Two armed Blackhawks,” he announced. “They must be moving close to max speed . . . northwest along highway 287.”

When the aircraft were no longer a visual threat, Pete yelled “All clear! Everyone can come out!” He slipped his binoculars into a cargo pocket and announced, “Everyone, please come together for a quick huddle. I want to talk about what just happened, and what we’ll do in the future when we encounter similar threats to our detection.”

When everyone was gathered around, Pete said, “I’m glad we stopped before they passed. I didn’t cover actions on contact that included aircraft, mainly because I didn’t think there would be aircraft flying this early in the disaster.”

“What do you think they’re up to?” asked Paul

“I don’t know,” said Pete. “They could be transporting VIPs, helping the government with a relief effort, or pulling security and support operations. Either way, we don’t want anything to do with them. You can see a lot from those aircraft, and I don’t want . . . our movement and activity, ending up in a spot report, especially if the aircraft are moving ahead of us.”

“Why’s that?” said Adam and Paul simultaneously. They looked at each other and shrugged.

Pete cleared his throat and said, “Because they could redirect us, stop us, or worse. Trust me, we don’t want to tangle with the government in any form. I saw what was happening on Fort Hood, and to me it looked a lot like a FEMA camp.”

“What’s a FEMA camp?” asked Corbin.

“FEMA stands for Federal Emergency Management Agency,” answered Pete. “They’re the government agency responsible for helping the country in times of national emergencies.”

“I remember them . . . they didn’t do so hot in Louisiana after hurricane Katrina,” quipped Paul.

Pete nodded and said, “Remember, FEMA is government owned, so it’s not a perfect system. But they’ll serve a purpose during the disaster. They’ll help people who did nothing to help themselves.”

“Like set up camps,” replied Paul.

“Right,” said Pete. “They’ll set up camps.”

“What’s wrong with those camps, Pete?” asked Jenna. It wasn’t that she was interested in going to a FEMA camp, but she could read the concern on Pete’s face when he mentioned them. She wondered what it was about the camps that scared someone like Pete.

Pete looked to John for support, but John was completely satisfied with how Pete was handling the conversation so he only nodded. John also knew he couldn’t explain it any better than his friend, so he waited and listened, though he was prepared to jump in if needed. When Pete didn’t resume his explanation, John said, “Go ahead, Pete. You know the story better than I do. They need to know the risk of being sent anywhere the government offers help, and why we’re being so cautious along the way.”

Everyone looked at John, but then Pete began to speak and everyone turned back to him. He cleared his throat and said, “OK, the best example of a government or FEMA camp gone bad was the New Orleans superdome in 2005,” said Pete. “Katrina was a problem for the government in many ways, but they were entirely unprepared for what happened there. FEMA took more than a week to get there, so the government ended up using the Superdome to house the more than twenty-thousand displaced persons from the hurricane.

“I read the reports. People slept on cots on the arena floor, and in the bleachers above. It was hot in the stadium, in the 90’s, with oppressive humidity. The power was out due to the storm. The toilets were backed up and the place reeked of human waste and body odor. In the six days the Superdome was used as a government refugee center, six people died: two by suicide and four more by natural causes.”

Marissa gasped and Pete added while turning to look at her, “There were a lot of elderly people in the Superdome. Those that were abandoned when the staff of their special care facility evacuated without them.”

“That’s terrible,” added Marissa.

“Try to imagine the challenges associated with caring for and securing some twenty-thousand people, all thrown together under one roof. Feeding and watering them would have been a huge challenge on its own,” added Pete.

“What’d they have for security?” asked Paul.

Pete nodded and said, “There were cops, but not many. It was reported the police prevented one rape, but there were reports of others. There were also reports of robbery and gang activity, but rumors caused more harm and trouble than anything. People were making weapons from chair legs . . . to defend themselves from a racial battle they thought was sure to erupt. It was a huge mess.”

“But that was a . . . what do you guys call that kind of thing in the army? It was a hasty setup, right? I mean, the FEMA camps for something like this disaster will be much better organized . . . won’t they?” asked Paul, as he looked between Pete and John for an answer.

“They’ll probably be more organized, but I suspect it will be a lot like what Pete saw at Fort Hood,” answered John.

“I think it will be more like what we saw in Africa,” replied Pete. “But for the sake of many, I hope it will be better. I know the government . . . FEMA . . . learned from their mistakes, but there’s something about going to those camps that bothers me more than anything. It’s also what made me decide to turn around at the gates of Fort Hood.” Pete scanned the faces of the company and said, “I didn’t plan to surrender my freedom.”

Everyone nodded, even the boys, but it was Paul who spoke his mind first. “You mean they’ll take everything from us before we can enter the camp?”

“Something like that,” replied Pete. “They probably won’t take your personal items, like identification papers and family documents. Pictures, or clothes and bedding, and that kind of stuff you might be allowed to keep. But everything will be thoroughly searched. All the food and weapons will be confiscated, that’s SOP.”

“S . . . O . . . P?” asked Paul.

“Standard Operating Procedure,” replied Adam quickly. Everyone turned to look at him and his face turned red. He looked down and toed the dirt at his feet.

Pete smiled and said, “Right . . . SOP. It’s in their playbook, so to speak. But you have to understand, their goal is to control whoever’s in the camp. And they can’t maintain control and order over people if they’re armed and forming their own little internal communities. Everything will be about control in those camps . . . all in the name of order, of course.”

“Well, that’s gloomy news,” said Jenna. “But what does it have to do with us? It’s not like we’re heading to a FEMA camp.” She wasn’t perturbed or upset, but she was curious why the conversation was even relevant.

“You’re right, Jenna. We’re not heading to any government camp, but that doesn’t mean a camp won’t come to us,” said Pete.

“I got this one, Pete,” said John, and he removed his sunglasses to look at Jenna and the others individually. “What we don’t know is if camp participation will become mandatory.” John sensed the shift in tension and held up a hand while saying, “I’ll explain. At first, people will go to the camps because they want to eat and drink again . . . to see electricity and maybe even take a hot shower. They’ll flock to the camps because they’ll offer the closest thing to normalcy around.

“Some people will balk at the idea of surrendering their weapons and other property to gain camp entry, but the idea of food and water, of having their basic needs met, will win them over,” said John. He scratched his head and said, “This is taking longer than it should, but it’s important to understand. Besides, we’re almost done. But here’s the point, the camps will begin by helping the needy, but they’ll eventually become mandatory . . . work camps even. When the tipping point will be reached is uncertain, but I believe it will depend on the location, and the number of people who need assistance. But one thing’s for certain, the government isn’t going to run them like they did the New Orleans Superdome. The FEMA camps of this disaster will be structured and
orderly, and the government will use the people in the camps to facilitate their agenda.”

“You mean . . . labor camps?” asked Jenna.

“More like concentration camps if you ask me,” quipped Paul.

“Exactly,” said John. “The government will use the people in the camps to facilitate their New Deal like agenda. They’ll use something like the Civilian Conservation Corps to rebuild infrastructure and other things damaged by the disaster, but . . .”

“But?” asked Paul.

John looked at Paul and the others, and said, “But . . . it won’t stop there.”

“What do you mean?” asked Paul.

“Those camps could mark the beginning of the end for America, and the freedom we knew before the disaster,” answered John. “But I think we all know that things will never be the same again.”

“And all because most American’s weren’t prepared for the disaster,” added Pete.

“Yeah,” said John. “That, and the fact that the government wanted it that way.”

“You’re talking conspiracy theory stuff now,” replied Paul.

“Call it what you want,” responded John, as he looked directly at Paul. “You had a choice in following me. I didn’t make you come.”

“Calm down, brother,” replied Paul. “I’m not attacking you, or your concerns about the future. In fact, I believe you . . . and will follow you to hell and back. It’s just a lot to take in. I’m not used to processing so much change in such a short amount of time.”

“Amen to that,” quipped Bonnie. A few in the company echoed her comment or chuckled lightly.

John snorted and said, “And the change is only beginning. We’re still riding the wave to shore. It has yet to break on the rocks. It’s why I want to reach the safety of the farm before all hell breaks loose.”