The Blastlands Saga

by DK Williamson

  “I’ll take care of it,” Will whispered.

  Jack followed Stan around the corner and saw he had stopped at the first of five doors that faced out on that side of the support building. He joined him there.

  “Wait here and cover me,” Stan said. “Let me check the other doors and windows.”

  Stan made his way down the side of the building, checking openings as he went until he reached the other end where part of the building jutted out. He returned.

  “Looks like someone was here recently. They went in through the door at the far end, but I think it’s barricaded from the inside.”

  “Any sign of an encampment?” Jack said. “TGG’s teams were supposed to be coming here.”

  “I didn’t see anything. Maybe around the corner?”

  “We’ll worry about that later. Can you get us inside without making a racket?”

  “If the locks aren’t seized up, yeah.”

  “Do it.”

  “This one?” Stan asked, gesturing at the nearby door.

  “Yes. Better if we can sweep the building from end to end.”

  Stan nodded and dug into a thigh pocket on his coveralls. He pulled a few small tools from a pouch and went to work. “My uncle Clyde taught me how to do this.”

  “I know him,” Jack said. “He says this sort of thing is in your blood.”

  Stan smiled, laughing silently.

  . . . . .

  Flour Power rolled through Old Drexel and McCarty aimed the old truck down the same course Jack’s unit had followed two days before. They slowed as they came near L-10, an M60 machine gun on the top of the cab covering their approach.

  Their discovery of the silo that had fulfilled its unfortunate purpose was the same as the Ranger unit that preceded them except for the evidence of recent visitors. They climbed aboard Flour Power and rolled east.

  Amanda tried to contact Jack’s unit via radio, but encountered the same strange interference that baffled Jerry Michaels. It confounded her as well.

  . . . . .

  It took little time for Stan to unlock the door and open it, at first a crack just wide enough to peek through over the sights of a pistol, then far enough to enter. Jack and Will followed him in.

  A short hall led to another much longer hallway to the right, a pair of rooms situated to the left separated by a large closet. Stan covered the long hall while the other two cleared the rooms. They found nothing but bedroom furniture inside and folded linens on shelves in the closet.

  They elected to retrieve their rucksacks and leave them just inside the door where they entered. That done, they moved on.

  The hall had several doorways on each side. Jack was relieved to see the openings faced out onto wall surface and not one another. Had they been arranged that way, it would make clearing the rooms more hazardous with the increased chance of being seen should anyone be in the rooms.

  Jack led with Will following closely behind. As they did before, Stan covered the hall while the other two cleared the rooms. The first room on the right was cluttered with bunk beds, the next room on the left with a mundane bedroom suite. Neither showed any evidence of recent occupation. The next door down the hall was on the right. As Jack neared the doorway, he heard the long breaths of someone asleep. He eased his way to the doorway and peeked into the room. This room contained bunk beds, a pair of men sleeping on the bottom racks of two separate beds. Their rifles rested within reach of the sleepers. Jack backed away and signaled for the team to move back down the hall.

  He told the cousins what he had seen.

  “How do you want to handle it?” Stan asked.

  “I think we should clear the rest of the place before we worry about those two. If there are more… we’ll deal with that when it happens. Let’s clear the next room past the sleeping beauties. Stan, you cover the bedroom once we have passed. Will, you cover the hall ahead. I’ll clear.”

  The cousins nodded.

  Jack led. The next two rooms were bedrooms, then a pair of latrines on opposite sides of the hall. A boiler room on the right was the last room that opened off the hallway and ahead was a large space, a day room Jack discovered as he came to it. Painted on the far wall was a large emblem that Jack thought to represent a military unit, largely obliterated by black paint. The letters NFI smeared boldly over the emblem while below was the phrase THE DECREES OF THE APOSTLES ARE YOUR WILL.

  “TGG no doubt,” he whispered.

  Will moved up and covered the far side while Jack cleared to the left. He slipped through a door that led to an empty kitchen. From there, Jack led Will across the day room to the only other door that opened into the space. A broken door panel leaned against the wall near a doorway ahead and to the right.

  The opening led into an entryway, at the opposite end was the door Stan had mentioned before. It was barred from the inside as he had suspected. To the left was another door, this one also damaged. Inside they found an open door to the left revealing an empty armory, vacant arms racks that indicated the room’s former purpose. They saw another defaced emblem, this also with NFI painted over it, WHEN IN DOUBT, ASK WHAT WOULD THE APOSTLES HAVE ME DO, the phrase beneath. Farther into the room was the entrance to the elevator. It was open, but would not function without electricity. Nearby was an opening in the floor that provided access to the ladder. Jack looked down and could see a faint yellow light far below. He turned his head and placed it in the opening. He could hear sounds, but they were indistinct.

  “Let’s go back to the day room,” Jack said.

  They joined Stan who had his rifle trained on the door where the men still slept. Jack described the rest of the building to him.

  “Can you tell how far down the ladder goes?” Stan whispered.

  “I’d guess forty-five or fifty feet,” Jack said in a quiet voice. “Whatever they are doing here is down there. We need to figure out what it is. Maybe it will tell us where the silo is.”

  “What’s the plan?” Will whispered.

  “We’re going down the ladder, two of us that is. Someone will need to stay up here.”

  Will nodded. “To cover the sleepers. Why don’t we subdue them before we go down?”

  “What if the people down below heard it? Conversely, if we have to fire when we’re down below, I don’t know if the sound would be heard up here. If so, somebody will need to stay up here, just in case our two sleepers come to check. That means one of us will have to cover the door to the bedroom. Whichever one of you is the sneakiest gets the job of going down there with me.”

  “As much as it galls me to admit it, Stan is the more stealthy.”

  “That means you might have to deal with the guys back there.”

  Will nodded.

  “And that means you and I are going down the hole,” Stan said to Jack. “Fifty feet down a ladder in the dark? I’m afraid of heights.”

  “What about when we crossed the rickety old rail bridge over a flowing river?”

  “I just looked straight ahead and walked.” He pointed at the floor. “That’s a ladder. In the dark. With a very hard floor at the bottom I would imagine,” he said with a shudder.

  Jack grimaced and looked at Will. “What about you?”

  “Heights? No, I’m not afraid of that… just what happens at the end of a fall from a high place.”

  “Then don’t fall.” He turned to Stan and pointed toward the room where the two men slept. “If by chance those guys come out while we’re on the way down, don’t hesitate. If it alerts the people downstairs, so be it. I’d rather deal with alerted TGG down there than climbing out under fire coming from up here. Got me?”

  “You got it. You can count on me and my solidly planted ground level feet.”

  “Good. Don’t give these bastards any advantage.”

  “We’re going into the dark, right?” Will said.

  Jack nodded, then looked at the ceiling and grimaced. “We’ll need flashlights. I guess we’ll sneak by those two again and bring the ruck
s in here.”

  Within a few minutes, they accomplished the task without incident.

  Stan tapped Jack on the shoulder. “What if I were to go in and take the GGs weapons?”

  “What if you get caught? What if they have pistols under the blankets? Unless you want to slit their throats, I think we best let sleeping GGs lie.”

  “I’ve never used a knife on anyone. I’ll stay out here. Good luck, guys.”

  Jack nodded. “Be careful. I hope we won’t be too long.”

  Will gestured at his cousin, and then turned and went back to the elevator access, Jack following.

  Will looked down the opening to the ladder. “I wonder how many are down there?”

  “Me too. If there are too many, I’ll pitch a grenade in there and be done with it.”

  “Once we’re down there, what’s the plan?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to see what the situation is first. I’ll lead. We’ll go slow and quiet.”

  “Got it. I’ll try and stay a couple of rungs above you. Tap me on the foot if I get too close.”

  Jack nodded and placed his rifle across his back, the sling running diagonal across his chest, then he unsnapped his pistol holster. Will followed suit.

  Jack climbed down and discovered there was a safety cage system around the ladder. He was concerned his rifle might strike the cage while on the way down, but was relieved to find there was more than enough room to scale the ladder without issue.

  They moved slowly, one foot or one hand at a time. Jack learned that the dim light coming from somewhere below was not enough to accurately gauge the distance to the bottom. If he looked down long enough, vertigo ensued as optical illusion came into play.

  Jack concentrated on staying quiet, looking down periodically. Finally, he could make out the tunnel access below and could hear faint murmurs of voices and a whirring noise. The space was clear of obstacles or clutter. Directly in front of the elevator frame and ladder was the blast door opening that led to the tunnel junction between the Launch Control Equipment Building and the Launch Control Center. The massive door was open and the light came from the other side of the opening.

  Jack heard a yell from below, but he couldn’t make out the words. He stopped, drew his pistol, and watched the blast door opening. He noticed the whirring sound was gone.

  A shadow crossed in the dim light, stopping at the edge of illumination.

  “Keep pedaling. We’ll be done soon enough,” an irritated-sounding voice said.

  “Can we have some water?” answered a voice ragged with exertion.

  “When we’re finished. Pedal, we need the light. The batteries will drain quickly if you don’t keep pedaling.”

  “The human body needs water. It’s basic—”

  “Faith overcomes. If you had but a shred, just a shred, you wouldn’t be low. Embrace The Good, that’s all you need do. We are cursed by your kind. If you have the energy to complain, you have the energy to work. Pedal!”

  The shadow moved away leaving just the soft yellow glow as the whirring sound resumed. Jack slid his .45 back into its holster and made his way to the floor, where he drew his pistol once more. He moved to the edge of the thick blast door and knelt, using it to conceal himself from the access portal. The floor was hard, concrete covered with a coating of some sort. He was surprised there was little dirt or dust on the floor or walls.

  We have Low Ones in there. So much for the grenade idea, he thought as Will came to kneel beside him.

  “This is gonna be tricky,” Will whispered.

  Jack nodded. He pointed at his eyes and then to the left and right.

  Will nodded, understanding Jack’s signal and pointed at himself. He leaned close and whispered, “I’m the sneaky one.”

  Will slid his rifle from his back and handed it to Jack. He drew his Hi Power, moved to the edge of the blast door opening, and looked left and right. After a few seconds, he moved into the doorway in a crouch and pausing, looked both ways again. He went two steps farther and knelt. He remained stationary, listening to the whirring noise from the Launch Control Equipment Building while from the Launch Control Center directly opposite came indecipherable voices.

  He crept forward and looked through one door then the other, suddenly reversing course, turning and swiftly rejoining Jack. He pointed to the Launch Control Center, and moments later footsteps came their way.

  “Matt says to give you some water,” said the same voice as before, with the same irritated tone. “One canteen to split between the two of you.”

  “Thanks. Did Matt remind you who’d be pedaling the generator if we Low Ones collapse?”

  “Drink and get back to work,” the voice said. The man’s irritation had become anger.

  Footsteps passed by and faded as the people in the Launch Control Equipment Building snickered quietly.

  “There are at least two GGs in the LCC,” Will whispered. “Two others in there I think are Low Ones, but I can’t be certain.”

  “Could you see what they were armed with?”

  “One had a pistol on his belt. I saw a rifle against the wall. An HK I think. The lighting isn’t great on this end. They’re doing something all the way in the back. I couldn’t see the guys in the other space very well. One of them is sitting on the floor. Pretty sure he’s the guy pedaling some sort of generator.”

  “Is the Launch Control Center wide enough for us to go in side-by-side?”

  “You mean to go in shooting? No. It’s pretty tight. The passage in is narrow, then it opens up a little once in the capsule. Problem is, there’s lots of gear in there. A bunch of handles and other things sticking out from the equipment, some tall chairs with headrests, work surfaces, keyboards, things like that. Be easy to snag yourself on it. There are electric wires running on the floor from the LCEB and the control capsule. We could slip or trip on them.”

  Jack nodded and thought for a few seconds. “I’ll lead. You stay at the entrance with your rifle. If I go down, start shooting.”

  “What about the guys pedaling the generator?”

  “I doubt they’ll be a problem, but you ought to have time to reposition yourself if they do. Fall back to here if you have to.”

  “And leave you in the LCC?”

  Jack nodded. “If I’m incapacitated, you’ll have to save my hide and you’ll have to stay in one piece to do that. If I’m down but still fighting, shoot over me. Either way, you’re the guy that gets us out of trouble.”

  “No pressure then. How about you don’t get in trouble, huh? I like that better.”

  “I’ll try. Follow me.”

  Jack moved into the space between the LCEB and LCC. There was a small bulb overhead and another in the passage past the big blast door that led into the LCC. As Will said, at the rear of the control capsule were four men working under a pair of bright floodlights hanging from the upper part of the room over the commander’s station. They faced away, their focus on the panel above the work surface. One sat in the chair with a man standing on each side of him in the narrow space. A fourth man, noticeable among the group because of his orange-red hair, stood just behind the commander’s seat. The rifle Will mentioned leaned against an equipment rack next to the deputy commander’s position near the midpoint of the room.

  Jack moved slowly into the capsule, passing under a red-stenciled warning, NO LONE ZONE - TWO MAN CONCEPT MANDATORY, on a stark white background. The men in the LCC said little, a comment from one of them about a stuck fastener was all.

  Jack passed into the Launch Control Center with no sound, looking over the top of his pistol. The redhead knelt, revealing a squat wide mirror above the level of the chair. Originally intended to provide a rearview of the LCC for the U.S. Air Force officer occupying the command station, it now served the same purpose for members of The Greater Good.

  Jack froze. The man straightened and passed a screwdriver to the man to his left. He reached for something high on the panel, his line of sight moving over t
he mirror and past. The eyes came back to the mirror and widened in shock. The redhead’s mouth opened and he took in a breath loud enough that Jack could hear it from his position twenty feet away.

  The man’s reaction was not lost on his companions. The man on the left turned and saw the Ranger, his reaction similar to the first man’s, except he reached for the holstered pistol on his hip.

  “Freeze!” was all Jack managed before the situation went beyond any verbal solution.

  The man on the left drew his weapon while his comrade in the chair scrambled to his feet. Jack saw the other two men moving as well, but his focus was on the man with the pistol.

  Jack raised his .45 the scant distance required to bring it to eye level as the man’s elbow struck the cylindrical shock isolator to his right. Jack moved the front sight to obscure the bridge of the man’s nose and fired.

  The man collapsed, falling against the rack of equipment to his rear and sliding into the man who rose from the chair, now lifting an M16 rifle. Jack fired, the bullet boring a hole through the man’s head and into a padlocked box on a rack behind. The man and rifle clattered against the chair and panel as they went down.

  Jack turned to the remaining pair and saw one of them bringing a rifle up, but he knew the time factor was against the man. His sights came on target when suddenly the redheaded man grabbed the one wielding the rifle. “No!” he shouted.

  Jack cursed silently as the two struggled. He covered them with his pistol. The rifleman brought the barrel of his weapon down on his opponent’s head, then again and again until the redhead sagged to his left. The unarmed man refused to let go, hanging onto the rifleman’s jacket as he leaned against the chair and slid to his knees.

  The rifleman’s left shoulder was exposed and Jack fired a shot through the joint, eliciting a growl of pain. The redhead finally fell, landing at the rifleman’s feet.

  “Drop the weapon!” Jack said as his sights settled on the center of the wounded man’s head. The man snarled and swung the rifle around one-handed. Jack fired and watched the man fall, coming to rest in a sitting position and staring at the floor with sightless eyes.