“Hardin’s final mission was one that set out to save two kidnapped children. It is my understanding those two children, Emily Barton and Mark Louis, attend Hardin’s funeral this day. That speaks volumes. Mission accomplished. That was not enough for Hardin. He took it upon himself to pursue the kidnappers, radiation worshipers, who seemed to be part of a large organization that had plans for something The Greater Good discovered deep in the Blastlands. These two groups are vying to control this discovery, and we now know it may have serious repercussions for the Freelands. The documentation Hardin recovered makes clear this threat. He gave his life trying to keep our land safe.
“As a Ranger Sergeant, he trained dozens of Rangers. Every one of those men and women are the better for it, and I would bet they would be the first to say that.
“I rode or trod with him on numerous missions, and despite our differences, I knew that if he was watching my back I need not look behind. Ever.
“Hardin could be a loudmouth, a braggart, and a stubborn fool at times. He was always a Ranger. His loud mouth stopped more than one fight before it started. His braggadocio backed down more than a few rowdies before they got out of hand. His stubborn foolishness made the impossible possible on several occasions. Those that are here can tell the tales, and they are worth hearing.
“Tess Traipse was the better half of the marriage joining her and Hardin. He knew that and said so often. She always knew what could happen to a Ranger out in the dangerous lands that surround us. Finally, it did, and she has borne it as well as anyone can. She is the first to have both a husband and a son wear the star. There is something to be said for that, but I lack the words. She deserves the utmost respect. Should there ever be anything within my capacity that I can do for you, Tess, all you need do is ask.
“In addition to Tess, Hardin left a daughter, Mary, a teacher like Tess and the mother of a second Hardin, who I hear is a fine lad. He also left a son, Jack, the aforementioned Ranger. No legacy can better honor a Ranger than these. You are all in my prayers.
“Rest well Ranger Sergeant Hardin Traipse. Rest knowing you left the Freelands secure. Rest knowing those that follow your example continue to do the same. As Ranger Commander, I issue you your final command: Ranger, rest in peace.”
Drake paused briefly. “Ranger Commander Duke Straily.”
Captain Drake folded the letter and slipped it into a shirt pocket. He looked to his right. “Pastor Pyle.”
The pastor spoke a few words and offered a simple prayer for Hardin’s soul and the comfort of those who grieved.
“There will be a gathering at the Ranger Headquarters building following the service,” Captain Drake said. “All are welcome. But first, should any of you wish to pay final honors by partaking in the interment of Hardin Traipse, join the procession in an orderly fashion, The line shall file past his family should you wish to pay respects. Proceed.”
Most of the Rangers present tossed a small amount of dirt onto the coffin in the grave. Many stood stoically or teary-eyed for a spell. All passed by Tess, Mary, Hardin, Jack, Gordon, and Art to say something, pat a shoulder, or shake a hand. Before long, it was over and the only people left were Hardin’s family, Captain Drake, Pastor Pyle, and two men from the undertaker to finish the interment.
Hardin’s family walked to the grave for a final look, and then turned away.
“Are you going to the gathering, Tess?” Art asked.
She shook her head. “I’m going home.”
“Little Hardin and I will go with you,” Mary said.
Gordon kissed Tess on the cheek. “I’ll speak with you later.”
Art and Gordon joined Carol and they walked toward the gathering.
“Straily did well for himself today,” Jack said.
Tess nodded. “Duke does the best he can. Like so many, he has pain that goes back to the Calamity. Part of him is broken, that’s why he is the way he is. It doesn’t excuse his behavior, but sometimes he overcomes it. His letter proves that. It must have pained him to write what he did. Don’t forget that, Jack. Otherwise you will end up dealing with him the way Hardin did, and Gordon and Art do now.”
“You’re saying I should act like a grownup?”
She glared at him and tried not to smile. “You know exactly what I mean.”
“Yes ma’am. I’ll do my part.”
Mary put her arm around Jack. “I thought I would feel differently. I am sad of course, but I feel at peace, Jack. Thank you for bringing Dad home.”
“It had to be done, Sis. I think I was the one that was supposed to do it.”
Mary led her son and mother away, accompanied by Peter. Jack looked toward the gathering, looking for Jennifer, but not locating her. The band started playing and the crowd became less somber and more lively. He sighed. “I guess I better make an appearance at this thing.” He walked toward the Ranger HQ.
“This is exactly what Hardin would’ve wanted,” said someone as Jack walked through the crowd. “Music and stories, hell, maybe even a fight or two.”
His companion agreed. “If one doesn’t start on its own volition, you and I can go at it!”
He saw Art and Gordon sitting with many of those closest to Hardin. Ben Barstow, Ann Anders, Chuck Harstens, and several others were there. Jack joined them for a time, but felt out of place.
“Hardin would laugh his ass off if he knew what Duke said about him,” Ben said.
“That’s the upside of the coin that is Duke Straily,” Art said. “Now I’ll have to send a nice note to the son of a bitch.”
“Too bad the bastard has to wait for a Ranger to die before he says those kinds of things.”
“But he did say it. That’s more than I expected.”
Jack quietly walked away from the gathering without notice and not saying a word. He wasn’t one to enjoy large social occasions even in the best of times, and this day was certainly not one of those. He realized his relationship with Ranger Sergeant Hardin Traipse wasn’t like that of any other Ranger. The others were friends, colleagues, peers, and brothers to Hardin. I’m his only son. I’m the only Ranger’s child to follow their parent’s path. I don’t have the same experiences with him as the others. I don’t fit into the gathering. He walked over the training ground, past the benches, and on to the shooting range. It was empty, as he had hoped. He spent quite a while watching the wind blow dust across the shooting lanes. He unconsciously calculated the adjustments to compensate at the distance each range marker delineated. After some time, he heard footsteps approach. He looked and saw it was Jennifer.
“I thought you might come here. You want me to leave you alone?” she said.
“If anyone else asked, I’d say yes.”
“That was a long-winded ‘no,’ Jack Traipse.”
Jack smiled. “Shut up, Miss Lewis.”
She laughed softly and walked toward him.
Jen stood next to him and put her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her. They stood there for quite a while.
. . . . .
11
Raiders, Rangers, Reckonings, and Recons
. . . . .
A great gathering of Rangers filled the training area near the Ranger HQ, readying their departure south to Humboldt for the train that would return them to duty.
“Y’all gotta get with the program and get some damn tracks run up here,” complained one departing Ranger.
“Tell that to the folks that decide where they lay down the tracks.”
“Watch the yelling. Some of us have hangovers.”
“Anyone here not have a hangover?”
Jack had said his goodbyes to many the night before, knowing there would be little time in the morning with so many leaving. Art took Gordon and Carol to Humboldt early, wishing to spend time with the man he considered his brother.
Many of the Rangers were staying, released from their service down south and returned to Troop A, and assigned, at least temporarily, to Geneva. Word among those gathered w
as several experienced Rangers would soon be joining Troop A, reassigned from other posts or troops.
Jack stood with a small group, the cousins Barstow and Dando, Sean, and Amanda. Jennifer was absent, needed at the medical clinic.
“You going into the Blastlands soon, Jack?” Jim Barstow said.
“As soon as we know what we’re doing.”
“I feel like I ought to be going with you.”
“And all the time I’ve known you I thought you had sense,” Jack said with a smile. “Seriously, you have a lot of work to do down south. This thing in the Blastlands may still turn out to be a wild goose chase.”
“Well, if it’s not, keep your head down and shoot straight.”
“Jim has Cuervos to chase,” Ben said. “No time for geese.”
“Speaking of wild, you’d best watch these two,” Jack said pointing at Will and Stan.
Ben laughed. “Oh no. They’re your problem now, Sarge.”
“How’s that?”
“We’re the newest members of Troop A,” Will replied.
“Let me guess, your old troop commander volunteered you?”
“That hurts, Jack.”
“Captain Briscoe begged us to stay,” Stan said with a smile, “but you’re good luck, so when we heard there were slots open up here, we said Geneva is the place for us.”
“Good luck? We were almost shot to ribbons by raiders and drowned getting out of Kings Town. You were both wounded fighting raiders west of the Washita. That’s lucky?”
“Of course it is. We accomplished the missions and survived. Chicks dig scars and tales of derring-do. What would you do without us? We three are quite an able team, the three musketeers, three Rangers with four-letter names, twelve letters that spell action!”
Jack looked heavenward and sighed. “This is what clean living gets me.”
. . . . .
The training room in Geneva’s Ranger Headquarters was as full as it had been in many months. The number of Rangers returning from service down south had swelled the ranks, and with the trainees nearing the end of their course, they would soon have even more.
“A great many of you have never met me,” Captain Drake said to the gathering. “The problems down south threw everything into disarray. For those of you that don’t know me, I am Ranger Captain Edward Drake, Troop A commander. I have spent the last several months serving at the Ranger Center in Heaven.”
“We never noticed you were gone,” Art Sierra said. Everyone in the room laughed, especially Captain Drake. The two men had served with one another for much of their long careers and their jibes went back just as far.
“And I hoped you had retired by now, Corporal,” Drake replied, prompting more laughs. “We have some serious issues to deal with. The Cornhusks are becoming aggressive, dangerously so. They have a rude surprise coming when they realize we are not quite as shorthanded as we were yesterday.
“We also have a mission venturing into the Blastlands. Commander Straily deems this to be a priority, and has appointed Sergeant Traipse to lead the mission.
“The current training class still requires Ranger trainers, and we still have the normal patrols and observation posts to maintain. With more Rangers due in over the next few weeks and the new Rangers completing their training shortly, the days of spreading a meager Ranger force over a huge area are nearly over. One of those responsible for managing this is Lieutenant Geiger, who has done an outstanding job as Geneva station commander and will continue in that role. His wife and child are preparing to move up here as we speak. To all of you who held the line while so shorthanded, I say you deserve a great deal of praise. And no, Art, you don’t get a bonus, just a little sunshine up your kilt.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Drake waited for the laughs to subside. “Dan, Barlo, Hays, and Michaels have prepared some briefing material, so gather around and we’ll go over some things so everyone understands what we’re doing.”
The Rangers took seats at the table or stood behind those seated. Dan Geiger took Drake’s place at the head of the table.
“For those of you who haven’t heard, a merchant train was attacked west of here yesterday. Two people were murdered and several others suffered wounds. The assailants were members of the Cornhusks raider group. Warrants are expected by the end of the day, so they tell me. We are going to increase patrols on the routes merchants commonly use and run patrols north as a screen.”
Geiger pointed at a large map attached to a vertical stand. “For those of you unfamiliar with the area, the Cornhusks primary stronghold is Princeton, located well north of us. They also continue to keep a sizable force in Lane, to the east of Princeton, and there is evidence they are settling into Old Rantoul located about seven miles north of Lane. Homesteaders to the north of Geneva have reported increased sightings of raiders in the last two weeks. Those of you assigned to patrol duties should key on these marked routes.”
Geiger gestured to Barbara Louis who took his place as he stepped aside. “I’ll give you a rundown on the situation in the Blastlands as we understand it right now,” she said. “Our information comes from intel brought in by Sergeant Tucker’s expedition northeast, and that gathered by Hardin and Jack Traipse. We have an idea of what is going on in the Blastlands, but lack details. We still have considerable amounts of documents to analyze, but I would be surprised if the basics change.”
Ranger Michaels brought another map stand to the table and placed it next to the other map.
“TGG has been running numerous teams from locations just east of the Rocky Mountains to the Blastlands. Many of them have transported large amounts of explosives.”
Numerous hands went up. Barlo pointed at Sergeant Tucker.
“They’ve been running explosives for five years?”
Barlo shook her head. “No. It appears they have been doing that for a few months with reconnaissance units going back five years and beyond. The information Hardin took from the rads five years ago indicated The Greater Good learned of the location of numerous undetonated warheads in the missile fields surrounding Whiteman Air Force Base located northeast of here. There was also at least one American missile still positioned within a silo. Their aim was to recover these warheads.”
“They didn’t use the one left in the silo during the war?” Sergeant Tucker said.
“After the war with the Russians, the nuclear arsenals were in the process of reduction. At least one silo in the Blastlands was in the midst of decommissioning and could not launch in the Calamity. TGG discovered this information from former military sources in what used to be Colorado. There were also reports from radar and tracking stations noting locations of strikes plus warheads that failed to detonate. The rads acquired this information from a TGG team, and they too seek these warheads.”
“Where exactly is this silo, and where did these other warheads come from?”
“We’re still trying to find the precise location of the silo, but it is in the western portion of the Blastlands most likely. It is this region TGG mark as the destination for their teams coming east. As for the other warheads, many of the weapons that were used to attack the missile fields failed to detonate as I mentioned before. Some from simple malfunction, others might heve suffered damage before they reached their target. Remember, the warheads targeted on missile silos needed to be very close to the surface before detonation in order to damage or destroy underground targets, so those that did explode threw huge amounts of irradiated dirt and debris into the air. Other warheads flying into this cloud could be damaged to the point they would not function correctly. There were likely anti-ballistic missile systems in play too. The documentation we have indicates there may be dozens of such dud warheads.”
Art raised a hand and spoke. “We know why the rads want the warheads, but why are TGG traveling hundreds of miles to recover the things?”
“Are they planning on taking them back west?” Captain Drake said.
Barlo nodded. �
�There is evidence TGG want atomic weapons capability, but it is beyond them right now. They have some other purpose for these devices in the west part of the continent around the city that was Los Angeles. We don’t know what that purpose is as of yet.”
“Aliens,” Jack said. “Aliens won’t spawn where the radiation levels are beyond a certain point. Maybe TGG has learned that if you hit alien encroachment with radioactive material, the aliens go bye-bye.”
Michaels shrugged. “Trading aliens for a radioactive wasteland? That’s insane.”
Jack nodded. “TGG are insane. We’ve all seen some of their slogans. ‘You are only free in service of the State.’ ‘Freedom without service is slavery.’ ‘Service to the State is service to the Lord.’ Then there is their shoot, don’t talk behavior. They are every bit as dangerous and crazy as the rads or necros. I wonder if they have considered what the rads of the world might do if they learn LA is an alien-free radiation zone?”
Barbara gestured toward Jack. “Good theory. It appears TGG is trying to move west and have met resistance, not just from aliens, but humans of some sort. We haven’t uncovered any information about who they are. TGG refers to them using the same term they use for us, ‘heretics.’ That said, anyone not TGG is a heretic in their eyes.”
“Could you explain why Straily considers this issue a priority?” Drake said.
“Certainly. The Greater Good have had this plan for more than five years. The rads interference has slowed their reconnaissance of the Blastlands, but they are currently conducting recovery of warheads. To do this they need manpower and the ability to excavate buried warheads, and if they are in fact attempting to recover the missile in the silo, they’ll need to breach a facility stout enough to survive anything but a direct hit from an atomic weapon. That will take time, but they must have what they consider to be adequate force over there to recover the warheads, transport them back to their homeland, and provide security against anyone attempting to stop them. The longer we wait, the stronger they get.”
The Blastlands Saga Page 51