The Blastlands Saga

by DK Williamson

  “Hold it! Hands up,” Will said.

  Jack turned and moved to the doorway of the Launch Control Center. He found Will covering two men who held their hands up in front of them.

  “I’m behind you, Will.”

  “We clear in there?” he said without looking toward Jack.

  “Yes.” Jack looked at the two men. “You’re what The Greater Good call Low Ones?”

  “Yes,” said one of them, a short and stocky blond, his voice recognizable as the one who angered the man that brought them water. “We’re not armed. Who are you?”

  “Freelands Rangers.” He gestured over his shoulder. “Is the redheaded man one of you?”

  “Eric. Yes, he is. Did you kill him?”

  “No. One of the others beat him up a little. Will, you want to take a look at him?”

  Dando lowered his rifle. “Sure thing. What about these two?”

  “Bring them. Eric’s unconscious. If he comes to, he might like to see a familiar face.”

  “Thank you,” said the other man. “There were two other GG’s that went up a couple of hours ago.”

  “We have it covered. Thanks for mentioning it.”

  “Hey, Jack? You want to go up and help Stan? I’ll be okay with these guys.”

  “All right.” He turned to leave, but stopped. “How long will the lights last down here?”

  “Fifteen minutes, longer if we shut off one of the bright lights.”

  Jack nodded.

  “You guys okay down there? I thought I might have heard shots,” came Stan’s reverberating voice from the elevator shaft.

  Jack walked toward the elevator. “You did. We’re good. You?”

  “Traded four bullets for a pair of dead Greater Good assholes who went for weapons when I asked them nicely not to do that. Want me down there?”

  “Not unless you’re trying to cure your fear of heights. Stand watch. We’ll see if we can figure out where the rest of TGG are.”

  “Sounds good. I feel queasy just looking down there. I’ll monitor the commo. Yell if you need me.”

  Jack returned to the Launch Control Center. In the corner to the left, Will had placed the cleared weapons belonging to the GGs, their locked open bolts proof of that. He found Eric conscious and sitting in the commander’s seat. Will was moving a finger in front of the injured man’s face.

  “Stan okay?” he asked without looking at Jack.

  “He’s fine. Our two friends up top are no longer an issue.”

  “All of the GG’s here are gone?” Eric asked.

  “If those two upstairs were all the others, then yes.”

  “That was all of them.”

  “I thought TGG was using this place as a base camp,” Will said.

  Eric nodded. “They did briefly months ago, but no longer.” He looked at Jack. “I guess I wasn’t much help to you. I gave you away when I saw you in the mirror.”

  “A natural reaction. I could have done a better job myself. It worked out.”

  “You’re going to be okay. There’s a couple of contusions I’ll need to treat. I don’t think you have a concussion, but we ought to check again a little later,” Will said. He stood and pointed at the other two men. “Jack, meet John and Marvin. They know where we need to go.”

  “You’ve been at the silo?”

  “Yes,” said John, the stocky blond. “It’s north of here. Several miles.”

  Jack pulled out his map and looked at it. “Lima-Zero-Two. Have they recovered the warhead yet?”

  “They were still blowing charges when we were last there. That was yesterday morning.”

  “So they’re not into the silo yet.”

  “They’re in I guess. There is a small hatch leading inside, at least part of the way. I’ve seen them climb in and out. They won’t let us near it. It’s the big reinforced cover on top of the silo that’s keeping them from their prize. It’s slow going. They are chipping away at it with explosives.”

  “What kind of explosives are they using?” Will said.

  Marvin shook his head. “Can’t say for certain. I’m no expert. I saw TNT, PETN, Pentolite, there’s some others. Five or six different kinds at least.” He paused. “Each according to its purpose,” he said, soon joined in chorus by the other two, “Each applied to its proper need.”

  All three men laughed, some bitterness in their voices.

  “A saying the GGs use… for tools, explosives, or Low Ones,” Marvin said. “Some of the explosives are touchy. Only the techs are allowed to handle them.”

  “Unless they need it moved, then it’s us,” John added.

  “The launcher closure, the cover, they can’t open it using the rails?” Jack said.

  John shook his head. “No. The rails have damage. Even so, I don’t know how they would move such a thing. It’s very heavy. The Apostles sent a man who has their confidence to oversee the operation. He knows science. There’s a couple of explosive techs too. They want the warhead intact, so they fear using large charges. The warhead is said to be very heavy, so they have a stout steel frame with a large ratcheting block and tackle apparatus to lift it free when they are finally through.”

  “What do they want it for?” Will asked.

  “The Western War. That’s my guess.”

  “You’ll have to forgive us,” Jack said. “We don’t know what that is. Is it the issue in Los Angeles?”

  “That’s right. The GGs feel it’s their destiny to hold dominion over the world. They’re pushing into Cali, what used to be a state called California under the old system. The Apostles want the old city of Los Angeles, and to get it, they need to rid it of aliens. My cousin pulled a load of cargo out there and some wounded back to a field hospital before he returned to Beacon City. He said there is no city, just high wreckage and warring bands. The aliens were thick though. Herds of them.”

  Will shook his head. “Where’s this Beacon City?”

  “It’s what used to be Salt Lake City. They built this spire that juts way up in the sky. It has an array of lights on top that’s visible for a long way off. It’s a beacon to lead others to The Good they say, so the GGs changed the name of the city. They wanted the old name obliterated from memory, but everyone knows what it was.”

  Jack thought of the necros beacon in Old Norman. “So the GG’s want the warhead to use against the aliens in Cali?” Jack said.

  “Maybe. It’s not just the one in the silo. They’ve excavated a few of them. I was told they took one or two from a group that worships radiation too.”

  “But why come all this way for old warheads? There must be others nearer to your… The Greater Good’s turf,” Will said.

  “It’s the one in the silo. An intact and unused warhead. It’s important to them. The leaders never say why, but they keep telling everyone about how we’ll all be anointed as worthy if we get it back to the Homeland.”

  “It’s bullshit,” Marvin said. “Maybe the GGs, but never us.”

  Jack recalled the text about The Greater Good’s leadership wanting nuclear weapons. “Maybe they think they can replicate it? We found some quotes from TGG leaders about that.”

  Marvin sneered. “Then you know more than we do. They have teams out all over the place, but out this far and up near what was Canada is the toughest. Most teams they send out here and north don’t make it back. It’s the distance and the hazards. The team I pulled for getting here had two Scouts that were sole survivors of previous missions. One went up north on an earlier mission and the other to your Freelands. They swapped stories, argued over who had it worse. They said this time was different, but I don’t know what they meant, and I don’t care. I’m free of them. I’m not going back and I don’t care if the Apostles know about it. They can order my execution, but they have to catch me first.”

  Eric and John nodded in agreement.

  Will laughed. “Looks like TGG retention is O-for-six so far.”

  It was clear the three men didn’t understand. Will expla
ined the Rangers meeting with Harold, Ed, and Sid the previous day.

  “The Freelands really what they say?” John said. “We’ve heard talk. Come and go free and all that?”

  Will nodded. “Pretty much. There is law. You can’t harm someone unjustly. You can’t take what belongs to someone else. You can choose your religion, your spouse, or where you want to live. You can be godless, single, and roam the wilds and live in a tent if you want. You can own just about any arm you can think of, say pretty much what you want to say, and as long as you don’t act like a horse’s ass, most folks will help you if you need it.”

  “You can also choose what you want to do for a living,” Jack said. “No guarantee you’ll be a success though.”

  “Let’s say that’s all true and we wish to go there. How do we find the place?”

  “If we can deal with the rads and TGG, you can travel with us, or you can risk it on your own.”

  “How far is it?”

  “From here? Maybe ninety-five road miles to the southwest,” Will said.

  “What did Harry and the others do?”

  “I don’t know if they stayed or moved on,” Jack said. “They hadn’t decided yet.”

  “I guess we have a decision to make too.”

  “Yes. Whatever you course you choose, you’ll want to get clear of this area. Twenty miles west should see you out.” Jack gestured down the length of the LCC. “What were the GGs after down here?”

  “Not sure exactly, but we were sent to help pull some components. They didn’t want to tell us, but that’s normal…,” he trailed off as he looked at the dead men on the floor, “…was normal. They said we should get them now because we would be leaving soon. Most of the fighters went west to do something. From what I heard, there were radiation worshipers coming our way. I was sure they went to deal with them. They took a group of Low Ones west a couple of days ago. I’m guessing it’s related.”

  “Good guess. They were preparing fighting positions.”

  “They all escaped?”

  Jack nodded. “The three we mentioned came across us. I don’t know about the others.”

  Marvin squinted and pointed at the two Rangers. “You are not as described by the GGs. Another in a trail of lies they tell. The GGs call your Freelands a den of sin, your citizens immoral heretics. You Rangers they call barbarians. They won’t say it, but they fear you.”

  “They travel all the way from west of the Rockies to poke around in the Freelands, and when anyone tries to speak with them, they start shooting. We generally shoot better I guess. That kind of behavior, keeping people chained… sounds like they’re the barbarians.”

  “Yes, it does. Peter, the Scout who survived an incursion over here five years ago said Rangers were demons. He said one of your kind fought him and three of his fellows and won. This Ranger shot him in the back twice in ambush. Baited him with a bloody bandage on a trail. He nearly died, but he somehow made it back to the Homeland and earned his title.”

  “Scout is a title?”

  “Yes. Those that survive long-range missions seeking information have it bestowed upon them. It’s a great honor. The bastards are considered to be among the best men in the Homeland. Most of them are arrogant and cruel. I wish that Ranger would have finished the task five years ago. A week before we arrived here, Peter shot a friend of mine when he became too ill to pull.”

  Jack searched the bodies of the slain Greater Good members. He found a map that showed nothing he did not have on his own. There was a note instructing the team dispatched to the Launch Control Center to look for information on releasing a Missile Guidance Set and Propulsion Stage Rocket Engine from the missile body of a Minuteman II ICBM. They also wished to know if there were any special procedures for releasing the cabling connecting various components within the missile.

  This sounds like they are after more than just the warhead, he thought.

  Jack went to Marvin. “What can you tell me about the area around Lima-Zero-Two?”

  “It’s a strange area. The ground is contaminated. The GGs gave us paper masks to wear while they used respirators with filters. It’s mostly just dirt with some large patches of tall grass and smaller patches of some kind of grey lichen. There is a dry creek a ways south of the silo and a distance south of that there’s a large stand of trees.”

  “Any elevation, or is it flat?”

  “Not a lot of elevation, but the land has some roll to it. The creek bed is a low point between two rises, but no hills or anything.”

  “What’s north of the silo?”

  “The same grass and dirt. Another stand of trees maybe two-hundred and fifty or three hundred paces away. The ground slopes down a little there as well.”

  “How many people are around the silo area?”

  “People come and go. A few dozen at least.”

  A shout from Stan interrupted the conversation.

  Jack moved out of the LCC to the bottom of the ladder.

  “I’m here Stan,” he yelled up the shaft.

  “Sounds like they have something going at Ranger Hill. Commo is heavy with static, but readable.”

  “We’ll grab some things and be right up.”

  “I’ll monitor.”

  Jack went back to the LCC and told everyone they needed to move. “Gather what you need.” Jack looked at the rifles Will had stacked in a corner of the LCC. “Any of you know how to operate a rifle?”

  Marvin raised a hand. “I had a twenty-two rimfire when I was a kid before the Calamity. Low Ones are forbidden such tools.”

  Jack looked at John and Eric. “Either of you?”

  They shook their heads.

  John pointed at the two dead men nearest him. “I’ll learn. If those numbskulls could do it, I can too.”

  Jack nodded. “If you go it on your own, you might need weapons.” Jack wasn’t happy about sending the three off with little but safety training, yet there was no time to amend that. He pointed at Marvin. “You remember the safety rules for firearms?”

  He smiled. “My dad made me memorize them.” He tapped the side of his head. “They’re still here.”

  “Drill John and Eric on them.” Jack turned to Will. “Check the GG’s weapons for functionality. I’ll sift through the paperwork at the stations.”

  “You’d give us arms despite the fact we know little of one another?” John said.

  Jack chuckled. “A couple of aphorisms come to mind. A person denied arms is a subject or a slave. Tyranny fears an armed citizen. If we meant one another harm, we would have already done something by now. We need to move.” He pointed at Marvin. “Safety rules.”

  Jack went to the deputy commander’s station where numerous binders were stacked. One was labeled SIOP - ESI, similar to the folder he recovered in Old Norman. A quick look inside revealed it contained a Single Integrated Operational Plan. That explained what SIOP stood for, but Jack didn’t know what it meant. The archivists will, I’d bet. Another binder appeared to be a crew log. He quickly flipped through the pages.

  The final entry read,

  Still no communications from Looking Glass, Raven Rock, Whiteman AFB, or any other Air Force units but G-01, J-01, K-01, and M-01. Food and water are nearly exhausted. Our crew and those of J-01, K-01, and M-01 will attempt to rendezvous at G-01’s location and assist them if possible. The LCC crew of G-01 are the only survivors from that station and are trapped underground. They are digging their way out of their emergency escape tunnel. The loose sand that fills the tunnel has become a solid mass for some reason. We intend to help them.

  The fun is over and we’re going to the surface. It’s a Brave Nuke World up there, and we’re going to see the sights. CPT John S. North, 1LT Blanche M. Carliss.

  Jack took the log and two other three-ring binders that contained historical or technical data archivists in the Freelands might want.

  “Hey, Jack,” Will said. “All four weapons seem functional, but there’s just a single mag per.”

>   Jack nodded. “It’s better than nothing. Sling the rifles and let’s go.”

  “What about the pistol?”

  “Unless you want to lug it, leave it. Rifles are better for inexperienced shooters.”

  Will nodded and placed the pistol on the commander’s chair. “What about the bodies?” he asked.

  “You want to pull them up fifty feet of ladder and give them a proper burial?”

  Will laughed. “No. I was thinking this little space in here will get awfully ripe with these guys rotting away in here. What if salvagers want to venture over here and recover some of this stuff? There’s a big honking diesel generator across the way in the LCEB that might have parts. Who knows what else is over there.”

  Jack nodded. “Good point. We’ll drag them out near the ladder and close the blast doors most of the way. Maybe that will help.”

  “We’ll do the honors,” Eric said. The three ex-Low Ones grabbed a cadaver each and dragged them away.

  “What about the lights?” Will asked.

  “Leave them. This place hasn’t seen much in the way of lighting for quite a while. Maybe it likes it.”

  “Or maybe it just wants to go back to sleep. Let’s get the door.”

  The two Rangers found the blast door was not an easy object to start in motion, and once in motion, not easy to stop. Only the wiring running from the Launch Control Equipment Building to the LCC kept it from going completely closed.

  “We’ll need something to wedge in the opening for the other blast door, won’t we,” said Will.

  The Rangers turned on their flashlights, the illumination from the LCC now gone and only the low wattage bulbs providing light. Will retrieved a piece of metal rod from the LCEB and placed it at the edge of the opening. They pushed the outer blast door closed, the weight of the door bending the rod, but stopping before going fully closed. Painted on the outside face of the blast door was a cartoon tiger bouncing on its tail with a chubby little bear sitting next to the tiger. They both wiped their mouths with cloths. Above the tiger were the words, I told you pork was delicious! The bear’s reply was, And even better with honey!