Muster

by Christoff Orr

  “You will not,” Ms. White quickly shot back, “Now I know you are under some stress...”

  “Stress?” Butch nearly yelled, stabbing the word into Ms. White’s comments. “These people are dying, and I’m standing around doing nothing. They look to me to lead them, to save them, and I don’t even know if we will make it through the week,” he paused a moment as he tried to calm down. Finally, after a few long drawn breaths, he raised his hands as if to indicate surrender, then continued, “I apologize for the outburst. I just never had this many people relying on me. It’s, well it’s…”

  “Difficult?” Ms. White offered. “I understand, trust me,” she said, “there's no reason for you to apologize. There’s a reason I like having a small team. When you have this many people to concern yourself with, well, it can be overwhelming.” Ms. White gently walked around the fire towards Butch and patted his back. “Tell you what, why don’t you go make your morning rounds like you would back at Camp Zion. Check on the town folk and remind them that they are still alive and we are not done. I’ll talk to my team and we’ll figure this out by the time you get back. We still have those people up in Salt Lake, right?”

  “The Hive?” Butch quickly questioned back, recalling a conversation from two nights previous about the elusive group. “Yeah, if they follow through. They are known to play things very close to the chest, if you know what I mean. So counting on when they will help, and with how much is still an unknown.”

  “Either way, if they do come through, they will be expecting you. Understand?” Ms. White asked, as she tilted her head to get a better view at the weathered man’s eyes.

  Butch nodded as he muttered, “Yeah, sounds good.”

  Once Butch was gone, Ms. White turned to those remaining which included the entirety of her team, along with the Sheriff, Isidro, and Dave and Jay McGinnis. Ms. White spoke, “He’s not wrong, if we stay out here much longer, we will all die. Even if the people from the Hive make it here, and who knows how long that will be, I don’t know of any place nearby with the supplies needed to sustain this many people. That being said, he’s also right that anyone we send might be walking straight into a trap.” She stomped her feet in an attempt to warm her body up. Frozen dust scattered momentarily around her feet before settling back down. “When did I get so old that the cold bothers me?” She said with a half laugh. “Alright then, Commander you first, what do you have for me on the USS Michigan? And honestly, what does your gut tell you?”

  The Commander slowly stood up and approached the fire. He stretched his hands out and felt the heated air wrap around them eagerly. He clenched his hands into a tight fist, then after holding the fist for a second or two, released his grasp and stretched out his fingers again. He repeated the process a few times, trying to get circulation back into his fingers as he thought about the questions presented to him. The Commander cleared his throat and answered, “Is it possible, yes, is it probable, that I have a harder time answering. Those nuclear subs are 100% self-sufficient, their biggest issue would be food, and even that would depend on how many souls they have on board, so that can fluctuate as well. But what we are talking about is a US Naval submarine disobeying a direct order from the Commander in Chief. That’s a lot to assume.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously, warmth slowly spread across his palms. “Let’s start off with what we do know, the USS Michigan is an Ohio Class submarine, and as such it is virtually undetectable when it wants to be. It carries a crew of just under 160 personnel, that’s not including any riders.”

  Isidro raised his hand as one would in grade school, then without waiting to be picked he quickly tossed out a question, “I’m sorry, riders?”

  “It’s a term used to describe those who are just riding along, they are not officially assigned to the boat, but just need a ride, thus the term ‘riders,’” the Commander answered with the proficiency of any college professor.

  “How many riders could they handle?” Ms. White quickly followed up, now standing across the fire from the Commander.

  The Commander shrugged, “That I am not totally sure ma’am. I can tell you that they are rigged with ASDS’s and could house up to sixty-six SEAL team members if needed. Then there is the traditional payload that it carries. They have twenty-two tubes which can handle seven missiles each.”

  “Wow,” Johnathan said aloud. “One hundred fifty-four long-range missiles would sure come in handy against the King and his army.”

  “What type?” Ariella quickly asked as she stood up to add another few logs to the fledgling fire. Flames danced around the freshly added fuel before anxiously pouncing upon them.

  “It could be a combination of Tomahawk TLAM or Tactical Tomahawk’s, the Block IV’s and Tridents. Either way, like Jonathan said, they would inflict heavy damage against the King’s army. It is that very reason that I question their validity. However, I don’t know their circumstances. Boats like that often go dark. They could have been out of communication when the initial order was sent out, after the lights when out, but you would have to assume that at some point they realized that something was off. After all, if they reached out to us, they must have reached out to others. So I have to question, out of all the people out there, all the little groups like ours that are struggling, why us, why now?” the Commander concluded uncertainly.

  “So what are you saying?” Ms. White asked, her arms folded tight, trying to keep some internal heat within her body.

  The Commander scratched his cheek as he tried to put his thoughts into words, “I’m saying, that they could be the worm and I’m just wondering where they are hiding the hook. That if we go there, we might be walking right into a trap. The King and his men couldn’t get us at Zion, and I know that man is too smart not to have a backup plan. He knows that we are on the run and that we don’t have much, not compared to what was back at the camp. So why chase us, when he could just flush us out?”

  “So you’re saying that the USS Michigan is some sort of bird dog, trying to get us out of our roost? To get us to show ourselves?” Ms. White quickly asked back, pondering the question herself.

  At this question, the Commander just shrugged and raised his hands before answering, “Sorry boss, this one is a hard read. I have a feeling that whoever goes might be walking to their death, but if we don’t go and at least try, then all of us will die for sure. That’s why I volunteer to go. If things look good, well great, and if they don’t...” Again the Commander just shrugged his shoulders and didn’t finish the thought.

  Now it was Ms. White’s turn to look longingly into the fire. The sun had reached up higher into the sky, but its warmth still eluded most of the camp. The cold air was keeping the sun’s rays at bay, preventing their entrance. The flames in the fire were getting more and more transparent in the growing sunlight. She contemplated all that had been discussed, and weighed the loss versus the gain of the whole situation. Though no matter how she calculated it, she knew that the Commander was right about one thing, if they didn’t send someone, they would most likely all die anyway. “Alright,” she started as she looked up and addressed all attendees, “I want a four man team to go in. The Commander will be lead on this one, so I need three more volunteers. You’ll need to leave as soon as you get your gear squared away. Time is the one thing we do not have.”

  “I’m in,” Conall quickly shot out, ensuring his inclusion in the group.

  “Me too, someone has to watch their back,” Ariella said as she raised her hand.

  “I’ll go,” Dave quickly followed, already standing to his feet to get his gear together.

  This brought a quick response from Ms. White, “Sorry, but not you Dave.” Her words arrested Dave, holding him steadfast in place.

  “What? Why?” Dave shot right back, affronted by the notion that he couldn’t join the mission.

  “First off, I need everyone's head in the right place on this, and you and the Commander are like oil and water right now. I don’t need that fl
oating around out there. But also because you are one of our best guns. With the number of losses we suffered at Camp Zion, and now with four more gun hands leaving, we need someone with real combat experience still in camp. Trust me, you will help, just here not out there,” Ms. White said, her words defiant and controlled.

  “Then let me,” Jay quickly said as he too stood up.

  This caught everyone by surprise, especially Ms. White. She looked at Jay, then quickly shot a glance over towards Dave who was in just as much shock as her. “I’m not sure that is a good idea,” she quickly said, sounding more motherly than she intended.

  Jay didn’t budge, except for a slight tremor in his leg. He was still recovering and the cool mornings always made it ache a little bit more. “Why not? I’ve already proven my worth. I made it to Camp Zion, worked with Butch to allow all of you in. I think I’m a perfect choice,” Jay demanded.

  “Perfect?” Dave said in a scoffing tone in the typical manner of an older brother teasing his baby brother.

  Jay stood taller staring belligerently at Dave as he responded, “Yes perfect. I know what it is like to travel out there, on foot, without any true backup. I know how to fight. But, I am not one of your key trigger fingers, so my absence won't be felt in that regard. I’ll bring Trigger along. He is just as strong as anyone else here.” Jay finished, feeling proud of himself for his moment of defiance.

  “Fine, we take him,” the Commander said affirming Jay’s request to join the merry band of misfits.

  Ms. White looked over at the Commander, a little uneasy with the situation and simply asked, “Are you sure?”

  The Commander thought for a moment, looked over at Jay and asked, “You sure kid? You sure your leg is up for this?”

  Not wanting to back down now, Jay nodded eagerly in agreement, “Yes, I’m sure. Trust me, I’m ready.”

  “Good enough for me,” the Commander said. He then continued, “He’s right. He has already proven that he can survive out here, he knows how to fight, and he’s got the mind for it. I say we are your four, Boss.”

  Ms. White nodded an apprehensive agreement, then concluded, “Thanks, everyone. Why don’t y’all go get something to eat and then pack your gear and be ready to go by noon?” She looked around ensuring that everyone understood and that there weren’t any other comments or objections. She waited until everyone started to get up from their seats and head on their way before she called out, “Commander! With me please.”

  “Sure thing boss,” the Commander said as he turned back towards Ms. White, falling in line beside her as she started to walk away.

  Once they were a few paces away from the rest of the group, she softly asked, “You sure about the boy?”

  “Yes ma’am, he’s shown some grit, and honestly, pickings are slim,” the Commander answered as they walked along.

  Ms. White nodded her head in agreement. “You know if it goes south out there, you won't be able to babysit him. He’ll have to fight on his own,” she stated and looked over towards the Commander to get a visual agreement. “Okay then, he’s yours to take. Now the question is what do we do here?” Ms. White asked.

  The two walked immersed in silence as they both pondered the discussion around the fire. Movement started to increase around the makeshift camp as the temperature slowly rose along with the sun. If it wasn’t for the dire need of food, water, and shelter that clouded the morale of the camp, it would have been a beautiful day. The sky was clean and clear as if the heavens could be reached if one could only stand high enough. The mountains off in the distance had a thin dusting of snow upon their caps, while the rolling hills were covered with clumps of green pine trees randomly spaced about.

  “Do you know what still gets me?” Ms. White questioned then quickly followed up with her answer, “The lack of planes in the sky. I mean, yeah, occasionally you will see one, but not like it used to be.” She allowed the silence to rest once again, like dust returning to the Earth.

  “It really is a beautiful country,” the Commander said as they walked alongside one another. “You know, during all of this, we really haven’t had much time to just look around and see what we are fighting for. It’s right in front of us, but I guess we just get blinded at times,” he reasoned.

  Ms. White smiled, slipped her arm through the Commander's arm and softly leaned into his shoulder. “How prophetic of you,” she teased.

  The Commander smiled and jokingly replied, “I have my moments.” They took the next few strides in silence once again. If someone were watching them, they might have assumed they were just a married couple out on a nice morning stroll, while the reality was that the fate of their beloved country could very well be in their hands. Finally the Commander spoke up, “Despite how beautiful this piece of land is, I don’t like the idea of you just sitting here. There’s too much open ground. If the King and his men came down on you in any semblance of force, you wouldn’t last more than a few minutes. The only thing saving us right now is the fact that they are unsure of which direction we left Zion. But if I was them and I was in charge, I would have sent riders out in every direction. Eventually, if you stay, you will be found, and you will be slaughtered. I think…”

  “Ms. White! Ms. White!” The declaration sliced into the couple’s conversation as one of the young men in the camp ran towards Ms. White and the Commander.

  Ms. White spun around and looked at the young man running towards them. “What is it Randall?” she asked.

  “Butch! He wants you, he wants both of you right away! Follow me,” Randall said before he turned and ran back in the direction he had just come from.

  Ms. White and the Commander followed in tow and within a few moments, they were on the other side of the camp, where Butch was talking with two of the camp members.

  “Here they are Butch,” Randall said as the three of them reached Butch and the others.

  Butch turned towards Randall and thanked him before addressing Ms. White and the Commander, “Well, we might actually have some good news around here.”

  “I could definitely do with some good news,” Ms. White said as she stood in front of Butch and the others.

  Butch turned slightly towards one of the men he was with, throwing his left arm in the man’s direction as he introduced them. “I’m not sure if you have met the Thompson brothers before, but this is Sal,” he said as he pointed to the older looking one, “And this is his brother Kyle.”

  “Gentlemen,” the Commander said as he nodded towards them. “What’s the good news?” he quickly asked, the question hurried to emphasize the point of urgency.

  Butch clapped his hands together as if he was about to announce the launch of a new cure-all medication. “These two fine men are from around here, Cedar City to be precise, but more importantly, they know this whole area. They are what you might say, the type to always be prepared, so much so that they have hidden caches of food and supplies nearby,” Butch announced and allowed a big grin to spread across his weathered face as he stood there, as if he had just found a golden ticket.

  It was Ms. White who spoke up first, “I’m sorry, I’m a little confused. You’re saying they,” she paused as she gestured with both hands towards the brothers, “These fine men here, they have food and supplies hidden nearby? Why are we just hearing about this? Where is it at?” Her last two questions came out more angrily than she intended. She quickly tried to soften the situation, “I don’t mean to sound rude or like a jerk, but I am just wondering why you hadn’t mentioned it earlier?”

  Kyle, the younger of the two, was quick to respond, “I’m sorry ma’am, that’s my fault. My brother has been busy helping with his wife and kids, and I guess I just sort of let it slip my mind. With everything that has been going on, I just forgot about it. It wasn’t until this morning, when I looked out that way,” he pointed out towards one of the mountains in the distance, its sloping hill dotted with gatherings of sturdy evergreens. “When I saw that mountain ridge, it just all came back
to me. We, my brother and I, we have maybe a dozen or so still left out here. It’s not a lot, but I figure anything will help. Right?”

  Ms. White flashed her trademark Texas smile and quickly replied, “Very true. That is some of the best news we have heard for a bit. If I wasn’t so worried about offending your wife, I would give you a big kiss right now.”

  “My brother is married, I’m not,” Kyle answered back, the words spilled out so fast that they tripped on one another, and he stood there with a big grin on his face.

  For a brief second it looked as if Ms. White was going to blush. If she was, she quickly redirected the feeling, as she stepped up, a woman of her word, and planted a solid, three-second kiss straight on the lips of Kyle. Once she pulled away and reestablished her footing, she turned to Butch and without missing a beat asked, “So, how and when can we get these supplies?”

  Butch, knowing better than to say any sort of remark towards the physical sign of gratitude, instead thought for a moment, and then turned towards the brothers, directing the question towards them, “What do you say, boys? You think you could head out later today to get them?”