“Sullivan will be glad to hear that, at least,” said Scott as he picked up the gun and inspected it.
“Scott, look,” said Nash, his eyes fixed on the back corner of the tent.
The two of them looked in silence at an old walkie-talkie that laid near the head of the sleeping bag. Nash looked around the inside of the tent to make sure there wasn’t a trap set he couldn’t see before he reached in and grabbed the radio. The two stood with it between them as they looked at the multiple knobs on its face.
“Whoever was leading Barry’s group, he knows where we are.” Scott turned the walkie-talkie over in his hands.
“Should we turn it on?” asked Nash.
“No,” said Scott. “We need to take it back to Sullivan and let him decide. This is big, Nash. They’ve been watching us.”
Before they headed back, the two of them did a large sweep of the area around the Fort and ended at the creek for a final check. The number of slowpokes had thinned out dramatically, and only three of them now stood along the water. The dreadlocked slowpoke stood idle as usual.
“Every damn time I see him, I inevitably have a nightmare that night,” said Scott as the two of them made their way back to the Fort.
The sentinels who were perched atop the RVs came into view as Nash and Scott approached the fence. One of them gave a nod to the guys, and he signaled to Dianna that they had returned. She opened the gate for them and knew immediately from their demeanor that they’d found something in the woods.
“What is it?” she said as she secured the locks behind them.
“Something big,” said Scott. “Where’s Sully.”
Dianna pointed toward the middle of the Fort, where they could see Sullivan as he played a game of checkers with a teenage boy. They walked toward Sullivan with the radio hidden discreetly inside Scott’s side-bag. Sullivan put his hand up to Scott and Nash as they approached and let them know that he had no intention of leaving the game until it was finished. He made a move and the kid excitedly jumped two of his pieces, which ended the game in a fit of excitement.
“You got me again!” yelled Sullivan, clearly having let the kid win to move on to more serious matters. “Good game, kid. We’ll play again tomorrow.”
The teenager took off into the center of the Fort with a smile on his face and the checkerboard in hand ready to find a new opponent.
“We found something big,” said Scott as he pulled the radio out of his bag and handed it to Sullivan.
“Where did you find this?” he asked as he looked down at the radio in Scott’s hand.
“It was in a tent about twenty minutes’ walk from here,” said Nash. “Judging from the garbage inside, Barry must have been there awhile.”
“We found another bow with arrows and a canteen of blood,” said Scott and pointed to the bow and arrows slung around Nash’s shoulders with the rifle.
Sullivan took the radio and turned it over in his hands. “Something, indeed. This is military-grade. It reaches for miles.” He placed his fingers on the knob to switch it on, then thought better of it. “Let’s head to the war room.”
The three of them walked together to the war room, waving the other members in before they disappeared inside. Sullivan switched on a lantern and hung it from the top of the tent as it bathed the inside of the war room with artificial light. He took his seat at the head of the table and placed the radio in front of him.
“Nash and Scott found this in a tent nearby. It looks like it was Barry’s.”
“Have you turned it on yet?” asked Dianna, her eye contact was unwavering from the scuffed up army radio.
“No,” said Sullivan. “That’s why I brought you all in here. I’m assuming Barry’s group knows where we are but if by chance they don’t, my fear is that whoever is at the other end of this thing will be able to find our location by us using it.”
“Is that possible?” asked Meghan.
“Very much so.”
They all stared in silence as each of them were unsure of what to do.
“We turn this on and our world gets a lot bigger,” said Stu. “Given what’s been going on lately, I don’t know that’s necessarily a good thing.”
“We could turn it on and just listen,” said Meghan. “We don’t even need to say anything.”
“I don’t feel comfortable with it being on,” said Scott. “Sullivan is right. While they probably already know where we are, it’s not a sure thing. It’s a big chance we’d be taking.”
“We found this in Barry’s tent,” interjected Nash. “I’m not trying to advocate either way, but it’s pretty clear whoever’s out there more than likely already knows where we are. Seems to me that we don’t lose anything by turning it on.”
They sat again in silence and evaluated the possible repercussions of flipping the switch. The air weighed heavy on them in the dimly lit war room with beads of sweat on their foreheads. The silence was deafening as they viewed the item of their possible demise. It felt as if the air was sucked from the room as Sullivan reached forward and turned the knob to ON.
A soft, static hum radiated from the beat up radio.
Chapter 17
A month after Sullivan switched on the radio, Nash woke up beside Melissa as he had every morning since. They had been up late the night before, sitting at the campfire with Scott and Meghan as they told stories and laughed late into the night. The mood around camp had become increasingly tense as time went by, each of them trying to live their lives while trying to stay vigilant.
He slid out of bed quietly so as to not disturb Melissa and looked at the small watch beside their bed. He was alarmed to find that it was just past noon, later than he’d slept since his first days of living at the Treefort. He yawned quietly and stretched his arms toward the ceiling, watching as Melissa slept under the light sheet they used every night. He thought about waking her but decided against it, knowing she needed the sleep just as much as he did. Most days she was awake before him and nuzzled him awake; some days they would make love, other days they would lay in bed and talk. They typically ended each day the same way, a routine that Nash was increasingly happy to have settled into.
He stepped out into the warm afternoon air as people moved about the camp like every morning before. He strolled over to the food truck and saw a small line of people waiting outside for their lunch. An older woman named Sarah stood inside, handing increasingly smaller packages of food and water to the people as their supplies began to dwindle. Sarah had volunteered to help Melissa with her duties and now the two of them alternated days, giving Melissa a much-needed break from the demand of the camp’s food needs.
He grabbed their food packs and smiled at Sarah as he noticed the two chocolate bars she’d snuck inside. As he passed by, Nash noticed Sullivan alone in the war room. He had his feet up on the table as he leaned back in his seat. The radio sat in front of him and hummed its soft, almost silent, static. He shook his head as he met Nash’s gaze, his arms folded across his chest.
This had become a daily routine for Sullivan, everyday around noon since the day he’d first switched on the radio, and again just before dusk, hoping to find some sort of life on the other end but each session ended in silent frustration. There were multiple channels he could have searched but he’d decided to stay on the same channel it was set to when he twisted the knob one month ago.
“You were up late last night. I could hear the four of you talking and laughing before I went to sleep.”
“Sorry,” said Nash as he stood at the opening of the war room. “I hope we didn’t keep you up.”
“No, not at all,” he said before he stood and stretched his arms above his head. “It’s a good message to everyone around here. We don’t know when, or if, anyone will be coming for us. Everyone just needs to go on their way and act normal. We are as prepared we can be.”
Sullivan was right. In the month that had passed, he had expressed to everyone the danger that they were in and educated them as bes
t he could in how to protect themselves. He’d weapon trained most of them and went over emergency procedures in the event that someone did show up at their doorstep.
As prepared and safe of an environment he had tried to create, there were still those who felt unsafe and left the Fort. Three families in total, equaling nine people, left the Fort to fend for themselves outside the woods. Sullivan and Stu had met with them on several occasions and pleaded with them to stay, but in the end they believed they were no longer safe inside the Treefort. Their departure weighed heavy on Sullivan’s mind and robbed him of multiple nights’ sleep as he dwelled on their departures.
“Have you ever thought about leaving?” asked Nash as Sullivan sat back in his chair. “I mean, all of us could leave and find a new place to live.”
Sullivan looked passed Nash into the distance and ran his fingers through his thick beard as Nash stood in front of him, fearing he’d asked the wrong question.
“The thought’s crossed my mind,” he said finally. “I think we’re safer here though. I feel like we can protect everyone here more than we could out on the open road.” He paused a moment more, and stroked his beard again. “I’m not giving up on this place.”
Nash walked back to the RV, the door was open so he stepped inside to see Melissa dressed and pulling her hair back into a ponytail. He placed her food package on the bed beside her and leaned up against the wall of the RV, staring at her with a wide smile.
“Can I help you?” she asked with a smile.
“Nope,” he said as he ripped open his chocolate bar. “You just look nice this morning.”
“Blah! I look like a wreck,” she said but still smiled from the compliment. “I see Sarah was good to you this morning.”
Nash held up the chocolate bar and smiled with brown covered teeth, which made her giggle. “There’s one for you too.”
Melissa sat beside him, opening up her own chocolate bar. “Anything on the radio?” she asked. Nash shook his head.
“If I were them, once Barry was out of contact, I would have switched channels.”
“Maybe try changing the channel then? I hate not hearing anything. The waiting is scarier than knowing something is coming.”
“Maybe—” Nash said, opening a water bottle. “That’s not my call though.”
There was a knock on the door, ending their conversation.
“We went out a little later yesterday,” Scott said, when Nash opened the door. “How do you feel about heading out soon to do our sweep?”
“Whenever you’re ready,” said Nash as he finished his bottle of water.
“Suit up! I’ll meet you at the gate in ten.”
Nash nodded and stepped back into the RV to put on his riot gear.
“You should have woken me up this morning,” Melisa said from the bed.
“Trust me, I wanted to. You were obviously tired so I let you sleep in.” He attached his vest around his chest and hugged her tightly.
“Tonight then,” she said as she nuzzled her head into his neck.
He could see Scott waiting outside with his riot gear already on and his rifle slung around his back. Nash quickly placed the helmet on his head and grabbed the quiver of arrows and his bow. Melissa leaned up and kissed the faceguard of his helmet, which left a lip smudge on the front of the protective cover.
“Be safe,” she said, as she did everyday he went outside the gate.
****
Scott and Nash moved through the woods methodically. Nash held his bow at his side, ready to fire at any kind of animal that crossed their path. It didn’t take long for him to find a rabbit and he sent an arrow quickly through its small body. He’d become skilled with the bow over the last month and everyone was always thankful for the fresh meat he brought back. Before their sweep was done, Nash had killed three more rabbits, enough for a hearty stew residents could enjoy.
Just like every day since they discovered Barry’s tent, they found nothing of concern in the woods. The birds in the trees were extra loud as they moved through the forest, something that happened every so often and always made Nash smile. One of the reasons he loved being outside the Fort was the simple, consistent sound of nature. Being in the Fort didn’t completely drown out the sounds, but having other people around, it was easy to ignore the noises of the woods around them.
As usual, the dreadlocked slowpoke stood guard at the creek and watched with a smile as Nash and Scott waved at him. Scott had taken to calling him Sammy. Nash loved going on sweeps of the woods but enjoyed their trips to the creek the most. The sound of the rippling water filled their ears as the sun broke through the trees and warmed their faces. In a safer time, he would have taken Melissa there, but with the threat of poisonous arrows, he knew it wasn’t an option.
They made their way back to the Fort with Nash’s dead rabbits in tow. Stu was skilled at cooking game animals. He happily took the rabbits at the gate and disappeared to prepare them. He’d gotten used to Nash returning with meat and met them at the gate after most runs, a bag of spices and seasonings in his hand and a smile on his face.
“Good sweep today, bud,” said Scott and extended his hand in the air for a high five. “Looks like she’s waitin’ for you.”
The two of them could see that Melissa sat at the fire while she read a book with her feet up on an empty chair. On the days that Sarah worked the food truck, she and Nash would often be found around the fire as they sat close together and read independently.
“Looks that way,” said Nash with a smile as he opened his RV door and jumped inside.
He quickly took off his riot gear and made his way to the fire with his book in tow. She was completely engrossed in the story that she was reading as he leaned in and surprised her with a kiss. He sat next to her and propped his feet up on the same chair with her. Without a word, the two of them sat comfortably beside each other and read for the remainder of the afternoon. Three quarters of the way through his book, Nash fell asleep and let the afternoon pass by as Melissa continued reading beside him.
“Finished mine!” yelled Melissa, jolting Nash awake and throwing her book at him. “You don’t have much sun left, chump,” she said, taunting him because she finished her book first.
It was a game between the two of them to see who finished a book first; a game, which Melissa regularly won. She stared at him with a smile and repeatedly pushed his feet off the chair in an effort to annoy him as he hurriedly tried to complete his book before the sun set. He finished quickly and flung it at her with a smile as other people began to crowd around the fire like they did every night.
Stu joined them at the fire with the prepared rabbits. Nash always enjoyed being around Stu while he cooked. Seeing the spices crackle on the meat while it heated and filled the air with the delicious smell that he loved so much. Nash and Duncan rarely had meat while on the road together and survived mostly on prepackaged foods they’d collected along their way. Neither of them had really known how to hunt, which left them at a disadvantage in a world full of flourishing wildlife. He was proud of himself for learning how to use the bow. Sullivan placed one of his large hands on Nash’s shoulder from behind and startled him as he talked with Melissa.
“Is it okay if I separate the two of you for a moment?” he said with a smile, Melissa chuckling at Nash’s surprise.
“Of course,” she said. “He may need to change his pants though.”
“Oh very funny,” said Nash, who stood and followed Sullivan.
“I wanted to go over some ideas for tomorrow’s sweep of the woods.”
“Of course,” said Nash as they entered the war room. Nash greatly valued his role in the Fort and loved being included in the security meetings. Scott was already inside and was at the table with a couple lanterns. Sullivan sat at the head of the table as usual and flicked the radio on for his nightly surveillance of the channel.
“How are things out there? I know you tell me things right away but I haven’t heard much from the two of y
ou lately.”
“Things have been quiet,” said Scott as Nash nodded in agreement. “We haven’t seen a thing. Even the slowpokes down at the creek have pretty much vacated, except, of course, for Sammy and a few of his friends.”
“Sammy? Is that what we’re calling him now?” asked Sullivan and raised his eyebrows in the darkened tent.
“It’s easier,” said Scott. “I don’t know what’s crazier, the fact that I say hi to him every day, or the fact that I felt I had to give him a name.” It was an odd feeling, this camaraderie they had with the slowpoke.
“Well, I was wondering if the two of you could use a break. I’m thinking about adding another team to outside detail. You two would alternate with them so you’d only have to be out there every other day.”
Nash and Scott didn’t necessarily need a break and hadn’t spent much time considering the option. They’d grown to enjoy their time together outside.
“Obviously, we could have your day off coincide with Melissa’s day off at the truck,” said Sullivan.
The lighthearted tone of their conversation was stripped away as the radio squawked for the first time in a month. The three of them stared at it with wide eyes and nerves on end as they waited for another break in the soft humming.
“What do we do?” asked Nash as the hairs on his arms stuck straight up. Without hesitation, Sullivan grabbed the radio and squeeze the transmit button.
“We know you’re there,” he said and released the button to another squawk.
They sat and listened to the humming sound of the radio, awaiting a response from whoever was on the other end. They held up another minute before Sullivan hit the transmit button again.
“Who’s there? Answer me.” More silence as they sat in the artificial light of the war room. It released another squawk, followed by silence as the person on the other end held down the transmit switch.
“Rather demanding, seeing how I’ve got the high ground. With whom am I speaking to?” said the voice on the other end, followed by another squawk and the familiar hum of static.
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