Last Refuge

by Allen Kuzara

  “The reactors?” Ayers repeated. He had a suppressed grin as he repositioned his chair. “Let’s just say, it’s an ongoing operation.”

  “Vaughn showed us satellite imagery, with the plumes of radiation spilling out onto the surrounding areas.”

  “Yes, they’ve gotten hot, but I wouldn’t call them meltdowns. And they’re not abandoned. But…Dr. Craig’s solution does intrigue me. The trouble with shutting these things down is being able to get in close enough to do the work. The fuel rods are down in the basements, the cooling ponds already evaporated in some, and the best we can do at the moment is continue to pipe in fresh water to keep them from going hyper-critical. If we sacrifice some drones, it certainly would help things along. Fortunately, for now, my men haven’t been tasked with any of those reactors. I pity the commands that are down there, but I’m confident they’ll finish the job.”

  “What about the emergents?” Nick asked.

  Ayers stood up slowly and stepped to the little coffee maker at his desk and began pouring himself a cup. “Coffee?” he offered.

  “Sure. Thanks,” Nick said. The last few days had exhausted him, and he hadn’t had the forethought to bring adequate caffeine on the road to extinguish his addiction.

  “Tell me what you know about them,” Ayers said as he passed the Styrofoam cup.

  “Well, I don’t know much,” Nick said, sipping the piping hot brew. “Except that they’re not crazies. Not the ordinary type, anyway. When we ran into them, we just called them cannibals. Because that’s what they are.”

  “What does Dr. Craig make of them?”

  “He’s the one that calls them emergents.” Nick pulled up his command display, and he noticed Ayers stiffen, but Nick couldn’t tell if he was alarmed or just intrigued. “Here,” Nick said, pushing his arm over the desk for Ayers to see. “Here’s the satellite map we’ve been using.”

  “That’s a live image?” Ayers asked.

  “No. I don’t have satellite uplink, but Vaughn does. Back at the ship. These are just the latest maps. You can see here the pump stations. There’s station three, and here we are.”

  “I thought you said it wasn’t live,” Ayers said. “How does that know where we are?”

  “It’s from the relay transmission. The radio signal triangulates our position against the known points on the map, i.e. the transmission towers.”

  Satisfied, Ayers nodded.

  “Here’s what I wanted to show you,” Nick continued. He thumbed the map over to the east and south. There were the white-red blotches after he zoomed in. “These are the emergent camps. Vaughn says they’re crazies who have mutated or changed or something due to the radiation exposure.”

  Ayers huffed. “Ah. That’s a hard pill to swallow. How does he know that?”

  Nick blinked. He didn’t know. “I guess…well, where else did they come from?”

  Ayers sat back, no longer alarmed or concerned by the information Nick provided. “Well, you know where they came from. You spotted a couple of,”—he raised his hands in the air and made quotes— “emergents moments ago.”

  Nick scrunched his face, trying to understand.

  “Those wild ones that tried to escape,” Ayers added. “You see, Nick. There’s an underclass of society that is usually hidden. Two percent of the population are sociopathic. The only thing holding them back, pushing them into the shadows, is that fact that they are afraid of being found out and punished. They don’t feel guilty. They don’t have consciences like you and me. They aren’t bothered by their sins; they revel in them. They’re proud of them. It’s the thin blue line and now us that keeps them at bay, keeps them suppressed. Well, guess what? Most of society went broke, including the police and the other upright citizens who would fight back against them.”

  He waited, watching Nick work through it. “So,” Nick started before he’d fully pieced it together, “you’re saying these emergents are just…human?”

  “The very worst of us,” Ayers confirmed. “The part of each of us that we don’t want to acknowledge is there. It’s our ancient past, the proto-human savagery that we pretend isn’t still with us. Civilization, modern society has stripped us all of these basic human instincts. We’re soft, weak. But mostly harmless. Well, not these emergents, as you call them. They are having the times of their lives—a veritable free for all. They band together, because now evil outnumbers good, and they know it. They know they can have their way.” He stopped and grinned again. “Until they run into us.”

  Now it was Nick’s turn to smile. Ayers’s explanation made more sense than what Vaughn had told him. “Thank God for you all,” Nick said.

  Ayers’s smile deepened. Then he said, “So, tell me Nick, what are your plans now?”

  “I have no earthly idea, Colonel. I gotta tell you, I’m glad to hear a lot of what you’re saying. It’s good news, something I don’t get very often.”

  “Are you going to go on with your mission?” Ayers asked in a dismissive tone.

  “I…I don’t know,” came Nick’s response, and part of him wondered what he was waiting on, why he didn’t know. “I mean, it seems like you’ve got things under control.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Ayers said.

  “But you have a plan, and I think Vaughn needs to be on the same page with you. His drones should be under the proper authority, not in the hands of one individual.”

  Ayers nodded in approval. “Sounds like you do know what you’re gonna do.”

  “I need to talk with my brother. And Lusa.”

  Ayers’s eyes lit up at the name.

  “She’s my…friend,” Nick said. “If I can make contact with them, can they come here? Can I show them the base?”

  “Sure,” Ayers said. “Are they bringing drones too?”

  “Yes, if…” he trailed off, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that Lusa and Jimmy were probably in harm’s way right now. He hoped he could reach them, get them to safety before it was too late.

  “I tell you what,” Ayers said, “bring your friends and their drones. You can all stay here on my dime until you make your minds up. I’m pretty confident, however, you’re gonna leave the soldiering part up to us. If you have a choice, that is, and you do. You can park those drones here and head home or wherever you’d like. Who knows, you may even be interested in enlisting.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” Nick said. He had his reservations still, especially about joining the army, but he didn’t want to sound ungrateful. He put his hat and headset back on, stood, and extended his hand, which Ayers took warmly. “I’ll contact them tonight,” Nick said. “Maybe they can be here by tomorrow.”

  “That would be great,” Ayers said, releasing his hand. Nick headed toward the door, but before he got out of Ayers’s office, Ayers added, “Hey, Nick.” Nick turned back, still holding the door handle. “Find Higgs. Tell him to clear a room for you and your guests. And stay out of the shadows. I run a tight ship here, but these boys are strung tight these days, and they tend to get a little rowdy at night.” Nick thanked him and headed out.

  Nick’s lucky streak continued when he saw Higgs stepping out from the same building he’d seen him enter right before the meeting. Nick relayed Ayers’s instructions, and Higgs promptly took him to an empty barrack. The room was bare bones—cots on concrete floors with crude light fixtures hanging from the ceiling—but Nick imagined it was that way in all the barracks. After Nick thanked Higgs, he called Delta Three who, seconds later, were inside the barracks. He told them to be at ease and that this was where they should be if they didn’t need to use the head or eat. As always there was no argument from them.

  Nick thought about what it would be like to be away from them, to no longer have the responsibility weighing on him. Yes, they were powerful and they gave him a sense of protection, especially out in the world among crazies or emergents. But even more exciting was the idea that someone else, someone who’s job it was to fight, could do it inst
ead. Who knew? Maybe Nick’s final act of service would be to bring Vaughn and Ayers together. The thought seemed far more fruitful, far more likely to succeed, than the mission that Vaughn had sent them on.

  For the first time in forever, Nick tried to kill time. There was nothing for him to do until tonight when he was scheduled to make contact with Lusa. Back at the vault, the boys had anticipated boredom—there was no TV, no internet, no friends besides each other—but to their surprise, there was always something they should be doing. Work was welcomed in an entertainment vacuum. But here, at the barracks, there was nothing.

  Nick tried to remember something his high school history teacher had once told him when his class had complained about their boredom. “Enjoy not being challenged,” had been the recommendation. The idea was that when they had grown up, had gone off to college or had gotten jobs, started families, etc., that the challenges of life would become all too present. And how true that had been, except Nick doubted Mr. Williamson had anticipated any of this.

  Nick closed his eyes for a cat nap, but he couldn’t relax. The drones were stealthily quiet, but they creeped him out a bit. He couldn’t forget they used to be crazies; they still were crazies minus the chip in their heads.

  After long moments of nothingness, Nick’s mind finally found a thought that transported him away. It was a bittersweet memory—but weren’t they all now? He recalled a moment from childhood when he and his neighbor friend Brad had played in a sandbox underneath Brad’s treehouse. They were too old to be playing with GI Joes, but it was what they were doing. And looking back, Nick realized it was the last time he’d felt like a child. The last time he’d shared that moment with another kid when they wished with all their might that mom or dad wouldn’t come and pick them up, that they could play just fifteen more minutes. He thought they both had known it at the time, because they hadn’t played GI Joes all summer (an activity in previous years that had been a mainstay.) He believed they had both silently agreed to this last pretense. One more time before they were too old.

  And just like how that final day of childhood had ended, when Nick had heard distant gravel turning under his mom’s approaching car, Nick’s stroll down memory lane was cut short by the sound of a loud grumbling outside.

  Nick froze, analyzing the threat. But quickly he realized it was just a couple of rowdy soldiers stumbling home after too many libations.

  His momentary panic was replaced by a rush of positive emotion when he discovered it was almost time to call Lusa. He sat on the bed and waited for the digital clock to turn over to the top of the hour. He felt the excitement building inside; he knew this conversation was more than just a check-in. This could be life changing.

  Finally, the time came, and Nick tuned in to their frequency. It wasn’t the one that Vaughn had suggested. Instead, they had agreed to use the same one that Nick and Lusa’s village had used before. Not only did they already have the frequency memorized, there was some small hope that it might allow for a measure of privacy, that Vaughn might not immediately hear them.

  Nick pulled up the small telescoping antenna and frowned, fearing it was too small and the power too weak to make contact with her. But just as he finished assembling his portable transceiver, her heard her voice.

  “Nick, can you hear me?”

  “I hear you,” he said. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  They were both silent for a moment, and Nick knew she was probably doing the same thing he was: checking the map on the command display to see their positions. It took a moment for the system to triangulate. Then he saw her position blink a couple times, then settle in to a steady bead. She was northeast of the base, as he had expected. Jimmy’s signal never appeared, but Nick had anticipated that. They shouldn’t be able to contact Jimmy until he was at pump station five, south of Fairbanks. Only then would the relay reach far enough.

  “You’re not on the pipeline,” she said.

  “No, I’ve found something.” He didn’t know why he stopped short of explaining. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Nick, I went to another village.” She was silent, and Nick knew what that meant: she hadn’t been able to get there in time before emergents had sacked the place.

  “I’m sorry, Lusa,” he said. “Really I am.”

  “I know. Me too.”

  It didn’t feel like a good time to say it, but he didn’t know when it would be. “Listen,” Nick said, “I think you should come to my position tomorrow. Do you think you can get here?”

  There was more silence, and he knew she was studying the map. “But we’re not supposed to meet until you get to pump station four,” she said.

  “We may not need to go to pump station four,” Nick answered. As soon as the words left his mouth, he cringed. He had forgotten that Vaughn could be listening. “I found people that can help us,” he added. “People that can work with Vaughn and do a better job of cleaning things up than we can. I’m at an army base.” More dread at spilling his secret over the air waves. But he didn’t know any other way to get Lusa onboard, and she needed to know what she was walking into.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, and Nick felt something good inside. She was looking to him for assurance, and he imagined that her unpleasant experiences out in the eastern oil fields had rattled her self-confidence. It was a mixed emotion; he felt sorry for her, but he was glad to play the role of hero.

  “Yeah, this is going to change everything,” he said.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll come in the morning.”

  He fist-pumped the air, celebrating in the dark room. “I can’t wait to see you,” he said before he had time to self-censor.

  “Me too,” she said back quickly. Another flood of positive emotion came over him. That was all he needed, all he could have asked for at this moment. The two weren’t far enough along in their relationship—could he even call it a relationship?—to ask for more.

  They made a few more exchanges, Nick promising that her trip to the base would be worth it, before saying goodnight. Nick collapsed back onto the cot he was sitting on. Drones or no drones, he lost all sense of self-consciousness, his mind overfull with images of Lusa and hope that this nightmare they had shared would soon be over.

  CHAPTER 20

  THE NEXT MORNING, Nick realized first-hand that the old saying about how the army got more done before nine a.m. than most people did all day was partly true. Reveille woke him up early, but to his surprise, he felt well-rested. For the first time in a long time, Nick had fully relaxed. And sleep had done its job. The vault was a secure position, but it had always just been the two of them there, and he couldn’t help but feel like he had to always be on guard there. Here at the base, there were fences, armed guards, and hundreds of soldiers chomping at the bit to turn some crazy into bullet riddled hamburger meat.

  After breakfast, Nick decided to be a fly on the wall, observing the goings-on of the base without getting in the way. There were crews of men—Nick didn’t know the proper terminology for them. Was it troop or division or what?—doing exercises and drills. Then he saw several convoys leaving the base and hours later, they each came back. Every time there was a cheer at the front gate, he wondered if it was Lusa coming in, but each time it was just another batch of soldiers returning home.

  Sometime after lunch, he noticed the base seemed sleepier and quieter than it had that morning or the night before. He guessed that was the cost of getting such an early start to the day. There were only so many hours, and you couldn’t really save time, only spend it. And even army grunts got tired eventually.

  Finally, the moment came. He heard a commotion at the gate, but it wasn’t celebratory. Not like the returning convoys had been, anyway. He rushed there and found Lusa and six menacing drones at a standstill with the two armed guards who looked increasingly alarmed. He noticed one was getting on his radio, and Nick feared the situation would escalate.

  “Hold on,” Nick shouted
as he ran toward the towers.

  One of the guards continued talking through the gate while the other who had been on his radio turned back and waited for Nick to reach him.

  “It’s okay. They’re with me,” Nick said out of breath once he reached the gate. “Colonel Ayers said they’d be welcomed here.”

  The guard didn’t say anything but rather got on his radio and whispered something unintelligible. Nick looked past the man and caught Lusa’s eyes for a split second before she returned to her conversation with the first guard. Nick’s heart leaped, and he felt silly for caring so much about a girl who may or may not feel the same for him. But she was here, wasn’t she? That had to count for something.

  After thirty seconds or more, the second guard heard something over his radio and turned back to the first and said, “Let ‘em through. Ayers approves it.”

  And with that, the big gate rumbled and squeaked to one side, and the second guard greeted the incoming crew. “Welcome to Fort Greely. Enjoy your stay.”

  Lusa came forward, followed by her drones.

  “Hey,” Nick said.

  “Hey yourself,” she smiled.

  He wanted to give her a hug, but he felt unsure if she’d take one. Finally, he said, “You made it. Any trouble? Besides the guards, I mean?”

  “No. Not today anyway. This is,” she looked to each side as she mentally measured the place, “big.”

  “You can say that again. Come with me,” he said. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  They walked down the middle of the dirt road, well worn by the constant foot traffic and convoy movement. Nick noticed, however, that the whole camp was without greenery, not just the roads. Every weed and blade of grass had been trampled to death long ago. The rest was dirt, concrete or gravel.

  “Don’t guess you get many crazies coming here,” Lusa offered as she pointed at the tall fences with razor wire on top.

  “If they do, they don’t make it through the fence,” he assured her. He wondered what she’d seen out on the eastern fields, what unspeakable horrors she might have witnessed. He couldn’t say, but he knew it wasn’t his place to prod. She’d tell him when she was ready, if she ever did. Some things shouldn’t be recounted more than once. Once is enough to lighten the burden, to know that someone else knows your pain and recognizes the struggle you’re going through. More than that only weakens you and doesn’t lessen the load. Or so Nick believed.