Muster
Book Three of the Lost Nation Series
Christoff Orr
Ohana Books
First Published by Ohana Books 2018
Copyright © 2018 Ohana Books Publishing LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without the written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website or distribute it by any other means without permission.
First Edition
ISBN: 1977939198
ISBN-13: 978-1977939197
DEDICATION
To my direct lineage of Orr’s, whom were all Patriots and who have instilled in me my desire to always be faithful, ready and willing to defend the nation I love.
Alexander Orr (The Elder) ~ Revolutionary War
Alexander Orr ~ War of 1812
Semple Orr ~ Civil War
John Orr ~ World War I
Vernon Orr ~ Vietnam
CONTENTS
1
The Hive
2
The Odd’s
3
Dog Whistle
4
Cache Out
5
Memento Homo
6
Bird In A Cage
7
Patch Over
8
Miles To Go
9
Attitude & Elevation
10
Neighbors
11
Humpty Dumpty
12
Redirect
13
Step By Step
14
Down In A Hole
15
Worn & Weathered
16
Set The Table
17
Give & Take
18
Crush Depth
19
Big Sky
20
Knowledge is Power
21
All Together
22
Folklore
23
Sanctuary
24
Duplexity
25
Blood & Soil
26
Old Friends / Old Feelings
27
The Cost
28
High Noon
29
Simple Mathematics
30
The Fallen
31
At the End
32
The Devils Den
E
Fly
“The Darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis.”
- Dante Alighieri
The very discovery of the caves within Mt. Timpanogos was nothing more than blind luck, or divine intervention, depending on who you asked. During a cold October in 1887, a Denmark native named Martin Hansen went searching for wood in the American Fork Canyon. Working for a local lumber company, he was always on the lookout for more and more wood. On one fateful day in October, he came across tracks from a mountain lion wile searching for the perfect trees. As he followed these tracks he literally stumbled onto a small opening in the mountainside. Little did he know, that he had stumbled onto would eventually be named the Mt. Timpanogos Caves.
1 The Hive
Mt. Timpanogos, Ute Territory
Lance held his radio up to his lips, as he spoke into it, “Charlie Two-Two, this is Bluebird Five, come in over.” After he made his call, he stood there calmly, and gave a desired look upwards towards the top of the mighty mountain in front of him.
“Bluebird Five, this is Charlie Two-Two, go ahead.” The words popped and crackled through the handheld radio’s speaker, bringing the once dormant device to life.
“Charlie Two-Two, this is Bluebird Five, we are approaching Broadway, asking clearance for entry, over,” Lance eagerly responded.
“Bluebird Five, this is Charlie Two-Two, hold one for clearance. Towers Fifty-One, Fifty-Two, do you copy?”
“Tower Fifty-One copies.”
“Tower Fifty-Two copies.”
“Bluebird Five, this is Charlie Two-Two, you are cleared to enter Broadway over,” there was a pause in the conversation before Charlie Two-Two finished, “welcome back brother.”
After snowing all night, the clouds faded and allowed the morning sun to hang triumphantly in the crisp clear sky. Only a handful of clouds remained, and those that did were merely wisps, no more than brush strokes of white across a sapphire sky. As anyone knows, however, such beauty comes at a cost, for nothing in this life is free anymore.
The cost to be able to see the sun this time of year was plummeting temperatures, which even at their peak during the day still hovered around near freezing. The type of cold which could bring pain to exposed skin, and overall discomfort to the human body. That was what life had become now, constant pain and discomfort, cold temperatures or not.
“Clear as a bell, cold as hell,” Vance said, the words forced out like a grunt as he placed the binoculars back on the rock next to him. The sound he made was a mixture of a laugh and a frustrated sigh, as they added a soundtrack to his displeasure.
Lon half turned his head to snatch a glimpse of his overwatch partner as he cupped his hands and blew warm air into the void between them. “What?” Lon asked.
Vance just shook his head, “It was something my dad would always say. How, when there were no clouds, it was guaranteed to be a cold day.”
Lon didn’t respond, just nodded as he glanced skyward. It was a beautiful view, he thought. From their position, at Tower Fifty-One, an elevation of over fifty-five hundred feet up, more than halfway up Mt. Timpanogos, they had a celestial view. On such a clear day as this, the visibility approached limitless, obscured only by the curvature of the Earth itself.
If it wasn’t for the mountain in front of them, they could most likely see the Great Salt Lake as well as downtown Salt Lake City. Unfortunately though, there was a monumental mountain blocking their view. They were not up there for sightseeing anyhow, they were up there for security. Most of the beauty of the famed city had been dimmed since the blackout, leaving virtually nothing to see, even if their view was unobstructed.
The once beautiful and thriving city, which hosted the 2002 Winter Olympics, was now just like every other post-blackout metropolis. Life had been sucked out of it, lights had been dimmed or extinguished completely. Now those still living, either by the grace of God or as a punishment depending on the perspective, struggled to get by each day. Though compared to most cities in the West, Salt Lake did seem to fair a little better than most. One aspect had to do with the fact that it was occupied by Chinese forces instead of Russian, and the second was that the leaders of the cities, as well as the citizens in the Salt Lake Valley, were able to form a symbiotic relationship with their new host. An agreement had been reached between the leaders of the Salt Lake City territory and the Chinese official who would be conducting military operations within the region. This agreement had saved hundreds of thousands of lives as well as ensured the survival of key local infrastructures which continued to assist the people of the Salt Lake Valley.
The difference between being occupied by the Chinese, compared to that of the Russians, was that the Russians only think they are better than the Americans, while the Chinese knew they are. This might seem like semantics, but the difference could be life or death. The Russians only thought they were better, thus they had a constant need to prove that they were, always pushing their power and strength upon the beleaguered civilians. While the Chinese, in their minds at least, knew that they were better and thus did not trifle with such subjuga
tion. In the simplest form, the Russian was the bully of the neighborhood who, in private, feared his own shadow and always felt he needed to prove he was the strongest. While China was the winning quarterback who dated the prom queen, he knew he was the best and felt no need to prove it. The self-assurance that the Chinese Government had, allowed those under their rule to live more freely than those under the iron thumb of the Russians. At least as freely as one can while under occupation in their own land.
“Here they come,” Lon said, as he could see the weary travelers walking up the main road, Broadway.
Back when America was free and this area was alive, the street now referred to as Broadway, was actually Utah State Highway 92 and was the main road into Mt. Timpanogos Cave National Monument. Now it was the fist of many choke points to protect the base camp of one of the largest resistance groups west of the Rockies.
The camp itself was referred to as the Hive, those who resided there were simply called the Members. Despite its size and its number of Members, it was one of the best-kept secrets. Even fellow resistance fighters outside of the Salt Lake Valley had no clue as to its true location, nor the number of its residents. Its anonymity was one of its greatest assets. It allowed the Members to work with more impunity of action. They could strike without fear of reprisal. They had outposts located throughout the Salt Lake Valley, and each outpost stayed in constant contact with one another as well as the Hive. This allowed them to strike quickly and then, just as quickly, melt back into the surrounding landscape around them before being noticed. All of this organization took a lot of work, it wasn’t easy to hide in plain sight. The leaders at the Hive had devised multiple forms of communication with their outpost, but still the most reliable was that of face to face. Thus the reason for the visit from the six Members who walked down Broadway.
Lance looked up towards the old power lines which still draped from one mountain ridge to the other, as they stretched out across Broadway. Most of the white and orange marker balls, once so vigilantly wrapped themselves around the power lines, had fallen off or were in dire need of being painted. Those that remained wore a muted tone, gone was the vibrant reflective orange. If it wasn’t for such a crisp blue sky, they would nearly be invisible. “I’ll never forget the first time I came here, I was just a little older than you,” he said when he looked over at Brendon his thirteen-year-old nephew.
“My mom said it was too hard to hike, that’s why we never came,” Brendon said as he craned his head skyward trying to see the peaks of the mountains above. Externally his eagerness to commence the climb was on full display, internally though, the shear size of the task seemed nearly impossible.
Lance chuckled, as he remembered how his sister had been. She had no problem walking around for hours if it involved shopping, but the moment that grass or dirt touched one of her overly priced shoes, she would flip out. “Yeah, your mom wasn’t much of an outdoorsy type. I could tell you some great stories about when we were kids and my dad, your Grandpa Mac, would take us deer hunting,” Lance reflected.
Brendon shot a quick glance over towards his Uncle, “My mom hunting? Like outdoors hunting, not hunting for a great sale?”
“Like blood on her hands, and dirt on her boots kind of hunting,” Lance quickly answered back as another laugh escaped, “But trust me, it didn’t last long.”
“What happened? Why did she stop?” Brendon asked as he tried to shift the weight of his backpack. The straps of the pack had been digging into his shoulders for the past hour. With the hike up the mountain still to go, he wanted to do whatever he could to help alleviate some of the pain.
The smile faded from Lance’s face as he thought about the question. The memories snuck in like a thief, and snatched away his smile and replaced it with a sinking feeling in his gut. He tried to form the words to explain what had happened, but in the end, the only words he could manage was two simple ones, “Your dad.”
This time Brendon didn’t shoot back with another question. The answer smothered him, drowning all his thoughts before they could even form. He too could only assemble the simplest of responses as he muttered, “Oh,” then lowered his head as he kicked some small rocks that laid helpless on the worn strip of abandoned highway.
Lance looked down at his nephew, noticing the change in demeanor. He always felt bad for his nephew, felt that Brandon always seemed to be on the short end of everything. It was that reason he made a point to invite him on this trip to the Hive. Lance looked upwards in the direction of where he knew one of the towers were located, then nudging Brendon, “Do you see them?”
Brendon looked up, his eyes frantically scanning the snow capped tree tops. Occasional boulder or rock outcropping would peak out from under the blanket of snow. Besides that, there was nothing unique or seemingly out of place. Finally, unsure of what he was even looking for, he turned back to his Uncle and replied, “No, what am I looking at.”
Lance knelt down a little, then pointed making sure to be close to Brendon, allowing his nephew a chance to follow the line of his hand and index finger. “Straight up there is Tower Fifty-One,” Lance said then pivoted around and pointed in the same manner towards the mountain ridge on the opposite side of Broadway, “Just up there is Tower Fifty-Two. They are the first line of defense for entering the Hive.”
Brendon stood there a moment, rotating his head from one location to the next and back again. Finally he replied, “I don’t see anything.”
Lance let out a light laugh, not in a mocking manner, but one of pleasure in the boy’s innocence. He then stood back up and began to walk towards their destination once again. After a few steps he looked down at his nephew and answered, “That’s the whole point. They wouldn’t be doing their job if they were easy to see.”
They continued the rest of the way to the abandoned National Park’s main office in silence. Focusing more on the task at hand, tabling their conversation for now. At one time, this office would welcome guests, inform them about the dangers of the hike and provide a simple explanation of it all. Now, it was not much more than another abandoned building, which offered little more than shelter from out of the cold. Not that the shelter offered was unwanted, especially now as temperatures were continuing to fall. However shelter was not its primary attribute, it was a connection to the nearby natural spring. The fresh water provided at this location was one of the life-giving components of the Hive and the surrounding landscape.
“How far is it?” Brendon asked as the team started on the trail, his body already fearing the oncoming trail of pain and fortitude.
Lance paused for a moment as he finished putting one of the freshly filled canteens into his pack. Once secured, he stood and swung his pack onto his back before he started up the trail. After two steps he looked back at Brendon who was still waiting for an answer. “If you are already asking how long it’s going to be, you might just want to stay here,” Lance replied.
This little jab spurred Brendon into action. “I’m good. Just wondering, that’s all,” he said as he tried to force out a light laugh, in between heavy pulls of fresh air into his lungs.
Lance fidgeted around with the straps on his pack, trying to get the weight centered. The hike, though technically on a paved trail, was still a difficult one. After about twenty minutes on the trail, Lance finally tossed an answer over his shoulder towards his nephew, “From the Parks office back there, to the actual entrance is right around one and a half miles.” He paused to take a look down the trail, always scanning for hidden trouble. Once he felt safe he continued, “We’ll climb over a thousand feet in elevation during that time. Overall, it typically takes about one and half hours getting to the top, but that’s when the weather is nice.”
The weather they were battling was not nice. Icy winds raced through the narrow canyons, stretching its frigid tendrils out along the way, scraping the mountainsides and attacking anyone who might be foolish enough to be on them. This hike was taxing during good conditions, but with the recen
t snow, ice had snuck in and was hidden within the shadows of the trail, causing a hazard that could be life-threatening.
Sections of the trail were in dire need of repair, parts of the safety rail were damaged or just missing. Then there was the recent rock slides, making some of the original trail nearly impassable. Despite the available manpower, nothing was done to fix these issues. It was an unanimous feeling that any maintenance on the path would indicate life, and that would draw unwanted attention towards those seeking refuge within the Hive. Therefore, the typical hiking time of one and a half hours was now stretched out to something closer to two agonizingly slow hours. The difficulties created by the tattered trail was just another layer of defense against those who might try to attack the Hive. Along with the towers, there were eighteen other armed positions and the carefully placed IED’s along the way. When it came down to it, no one was going to get into the Hive, unless the Members wanted them to. Even the sky above was manned and surveyed.
Muster Page 1