Koby wasn’t sure to say to that.
“You’ll find the yellow key will open up more doors than the others. Your team’s current set of keys does not include a yellow one. You may find additional supplies or parts to assist your repairs.” He took a deep breath again. “Koby, I need to say this one more time. Forgive me.”
“No problem at all, Pastor,” Koby said uneasily. He wasn’t used to seeing Pastor Pendell this way. “Honestly, I’d rather not go back inside the old girl either.”
The pastor’s head snapped over to him, his eyes wide and surprised.
“But someone has to babysit this giant beast, right?” he said, gesturing at the dam.
A smile slowly spread on the pastor’s face. “Right,” he said in a low voice.
Then Pastor Pendell straightened up, stretching himself up to his full height, a good six inches over Koby. “Right. And that someone is you, of course. Please carry on and restore the power,” he said with a smile. “I’m sure the kitchen staff would appreciate it.”
“Will do.”
Pastor Pendell gave him a brief wave and turned to leave. He walked away briskly.
Koby stood and watched him go for a few moments. He realized the pastor had indeed watched over them quite often while they worked. It had always been a slight distraction. Now they were free of that. He felt relieved. Something about the encounter didn’t sit right with him though.
Pastor Pendell mentioned that the yellow key opened doors that his team’s set couldn’t open. He was curious and as soon as he had free time, he could go exploring.
Something to look forward to, he thought as he made his way around the building that had served as a combination Public Works Department and Mayor’s Office. Across the road was the old fire hall.
While Goshen still had a functioning fire department, with a horse drawn carriage as their fire truck, they had no Mayor. Pastor Pendell led the town council, and for more than a decade the town ran smoothly using this system. Koby realized the old Mayor’s office wasn’t currently in use. He filed it away in the back of his mind as a potential space for future projects or an expansion of his indoor gardening project.
Koby hustled around the last block to the overgrown chain-link fence that wrapped around a squat concrete building. The building provided access to the dam’s interior, including a series of stairs that zig-zagged in tight switchbacks, reaching the top of the dam. It was the route used by the Eagle’s sniper teams when they kept watch from the dam. Walking up the steps was long and tiring but it was actually quicker than walking through the interior to the service elevator.
Koby took out the keys Pastor Pendell had given him and prepared to open the lock on the gate. The red key was for exterior doors, the blue key was for interior doors, and then there was the yellow key. The yellow key was the one the pastor said would open up new areas of the dam.
A key was missing from the usual four that Pastor Pendell carried on this keychain. For the life of him, Koby couldn’t recall what color the other key was, but he was sure that the Pastor’s set included four keys.
He used the red key to open the lock. The metal clanked and squeaked as he pushed open the door and entered the restricted area.
Cracks in the concrete steps that led up to the small building sprouted weeds. The rusted and worn handrail was rough under Koby’s hand. Both were a testament to the age of the structure and of times gone by. He looked up at the dam, smirking at graffiti teens had painted on part of the dam, before moving to unlock the door.
Of course, Goshen’s high school mascot was the Fighting Beavers. A distinction that always made Koby giggle inappropriately. After all, beavers do build dams, so in a way, it made perfect sense. It also inspired crude jokes, which Koby loved, and ridicule as evidenced by the graffiti.
Water roared in the background as it left the outflow and crashed back into the river. Climbing along the cliff and jumping into the deep pool below was almost a rite of passage for the young people. The ledge was a landmark of its own. He knew several proposals that had taken place there, and rumors swirled about babies conceived there. He was thankful for the old beast that gave life, a small sense of meaning, and unity to Goshen.
He smiled as he slid the key into the keyhole. In contrast to the aging structure around it, the lock functioned smoothly from frequent use and thoughtful care. With a screeching grind and thunk, the deadbolt slid back and released the huge metal door which Koby pushed open.
The door swung easily on its greased hinges. Light lanced in while Koby fumbled to turn on the lights that operated on a different circuit than the town itself. The dam generated its own power, thanks to a relatively small water wheel generator, making the structure self-sufficient. Inside, it was cool and musty smelling. Humid air filled the concrete structure, which felt surprisingly refreshing.
His practiced hand found the light switch. The lights snapped on, illuminating the large room. A small desk sat in the corner where Mark or Paul, his technicians, sometimes left things while they worked. Today there was nothing on the desk. He wondered if either of the guys were on station.
Koby turned and pushed the door closed, turning the lock to secure it.
To the left of the desk was a long dark hallway. The ceiling was high, so light filled the hall for quite some distance. He could see the stairwell that climbed up to the summit of the dam. From the top of the dam, the view of the town and the valley that contained it was virtually unparalleled.
Beyond the stairs was the door Koby wanted. It was identical to the door he just entered with the exception of the color. Instead of red, the interior door was painted blue.
Leaving the roaring water outside, he was quickly greeted by the muted roar of water inside the dam. Behind the blue door was a metal catwalk that led down to a concrete walkway that ringed, and looked down on, the five generators and lone water wheel that took up the space below. The metal catwalk Koby stood on was rickety. Each time he traversed it he did so with bated breath. It clearly was not built with the same care as the rest of the structure. It wobbled slightly as he walked over rusted and broken floor panels. He maintained a kung-fu grip on the railings, just in case. If he fell through the floor, he’d plummet a good thirty feet onto the concrete walkway below.
Generator One, or Alpha as Koby liked to call it, was running nicely, churning at a steady pace. Likewise, the water wheel that powered the dam itself looked like it was working. Not surprising since he turned on all of the lights. Koby liked to point out to visitors that the same waterwheel design powered Hoover Dam, which started construction just a few short years after the Goshen Dam was constructed.
Koby carefully made his way across the catwalk, down to the walkway overlooking the generators. He looked down at the electrical console mounted on the wall near Alpha. A red light was flashing, indicating a problem. Experience told him that he probably just needed to replace a small part or flip a switch.
Shouldn’t be too much trouble, he thought.
The generator room was huge. The ceiling rose about sixty feet from the generator floor to its max height. Rushing water filled the room with noise. In a way, Koby enjoyed the noise. Its steady, powerful rumble was oddly comforting and relaxing.
He made his way to the small stairwell that took him down to the bottom floor. He emerged near the Alpha Generator and opened up the control panel. One of the safety switches had flipped. When they started working together, Mark tried to explain the details of how these things worked, but a lot of it simply went in one ear and out the other.
Koby wasn’t very interested in the technology of the dam. It was old school and he preferred the circuit boards of computers and the electrical systems that had made his gardening initiative such a massive success. He learned enough to keep things running and left the detailed stuff to the other guys.
Koby retained a mental set of instructions to correct this particular problem. He only had to flip a couple of switches and press a large green button. A bright yellow
light flashed as the system checked itself. If all was well, the green light would come on, and it did.
He let out a sigh of relief.
Then it hit him.
The key missing from the pastor’s keychain was a green key. And there was only one green door that he’d seen before. He saw it just once when was with the pastor in a section of the dam that rarely required their attention. They never gave it much thought before.
A green key for a green door. A key that wasn’t with the others he was given.
Suddenly he had the urge to investigate. Pastor Pendell had acted so strange, how could he not look into it? It was his duty as a responsible resident of Goshen and a member of the Council.
Most of the rooms that weren’t used directly for producing electricity, or maintaining the structure, were relegated to storage. Koby knew of several rooms that still held military style MREs, or Meals-Ready-to-Eat. He had no idea if the food was still good or not but the damp air wasn’t conducive to storing other types of food. The MREs, sealed in thick plastic bags, were kept for extreme emergency use only and had been collected from FEMA supply drops not long after the fever hit. After almost a year of consistent delivery, the supply drops had tapered off and then quit all together.
Koby still remembered the tough situation Goshen was in when he arrived. The residents were surviving primarily on the MREs. Koby wasn’t thrilled about being reliant on someone else for food. So, after a couple of months, with a dwindling supply of MREs, he’d been able to construct gardens and grow enough produce to supplement the town’s food supply. Two years later, the town was completely self-sufficient, with the MREs hidden away like a bad memory.
Another room held spare parts for repair work and a small room held tools and cleaning supplies, like brooms and mops. Koby wondered what could be in the green room.
Normally, he wouldn’t care. He’d ignore it even. Now that he was aware he didn’t have a key for it, he wanted to know why. He needed to know why.
Church would be starting in a couple of hours and he didn’t have time to go exploring now. Plus, he needed to check in on Collin and see how his first night being conscious and mobile in Goshen went.
Koby planned to return later in the day to satisfy his craving for the dam’s secrets. If there was something that Pastor Pendell was hiding, or keeping secret, it wouldn’t be easy to get to. He couldn’t simply ask for the key, and acquiring it without the pastor’s knowledge was sure to be a challenge.
A challenge he was willing to accept.
Chapter Six
Collin woke and sat up in bed. The delicious aroma of bacon filled his room. How long had it been since he smelled bacon? At least sixteen years, but the comforting smell felt like yesterday. He savored the scent as he arched his back, stretching in bed.
A smile was glued to his face as he clung to the fading memory of his dreams. There was a family with a young child playing Frisbee in a large, grassy yard. His gut told him that it was his family, although he still couldn’t recall their faces.
A blue and yellow Frisbee flew through the air. It skimmed the top of the grass and came to a rest underneath a rose bush with bursts of red petals boldly punctuating the green shrubbery. A woman who must have been his wife, found the Frisbee and threw it back toward him and the child. Her laughter filled his ears with cheer. He tried hard to see her face, but the harder he looked the blurrier her visage became. Seeing a glimpse of their faces would give him so much hope, but there was nothing there. The way it made him feel was so real, so tangible, that it seemed more like a memory than a dream. Either way, Collin wished he could hold onto that dream forever.
Collin stood up and pulled his shirt on, sturdy old beige long sleeve t-shirt. It dawned on him that he hadn’t looked at his own face since he woke up from the fever. He wasn’t even sure what he would see when he found a mirror.
The home he was assigned to was a generous two-story home just a couple of blocks East of the church, close to the foot of the mountains. He liked the house despite being excessively large for just one person. Pastor Pendell insisted he take one of the few remaining unoccupied homes for himself. They had set houses aside for any newcomers to Goshen but no one had wandered into town in years and since the town lacked apartments, he didn’t have much choice. Once he found his family, it would be perfect.
His house was fully furnished and the townsfolk had even donated clothing that would fit him. It was starting to get warm outside. When she delivered the clothing, Julie told him not to worry; there was plenty of clothing to fit him when the weather heated up in a couple of months. Doris promised to knit him a sweater in time for fall.
Collin walked down the hall to the only bathroom on the second floor. The previous owners painted it a pastel yellow with white stripes. Too bright for his taste but he wasn’t about to complain.
Had Pendell been right? Collin thought. Was Goshen really a blessed town? Sometimes it certainly seemed like it. They still had running water, electricity, and a stable food supply. From the way things were described to him those were all luxuries that most of America had been without since the fever struck.
Collin leaned on the sink and stared into the mirror. His long brown hair looked unkempt. He’d have to ask about the town barber.
Wait, he thought, peering closely at his reflection. He didn’t remember those streaks of gray that had snuck in near his temples. He chuckled at the realization. Other than that, there was nothing surprising. He looked the same as he remembered. The same lines, familiar eyes, and the same strong chin.
He turned the knob for cold water and washed his face.
Water streamed down and dripped off of his nose and chin. He smiled into the mirror and examined his teeth. They were all there and seemed to be in good working order.
Collin raised his shirt and looked at himself. His muscles lacked the fullness he was used to. He looked like a starving person, but he guessed that was to be expected after surviving so long on a liquid based diet. There was no doubt that Doris would enjoy putting some meat on his bones. He had to watch out for that one, he thought with a smile.
Collin caught another whiff of bacon and remembered hearing a sound in the kitchen. Someone was in his house. He was presented with the house after the Council meeting, but he didn’t remember anyone coming in with him that night.
Satisfied with his appearance, Collin found the stairs and quickly descended to the first floor. He padded quietly across the floor, following his nose in the direction of the kitchen. He pushed open the swinging kitchen door, ready for anything, and was mildly surprised to see Kobyashi in his kitchen.
Collin took in the room, squinting against the bright sunlight reflecting off the white subway tile. The kitchen was setup farmhouse style, very comfortable and welcoming. On the counter next to the stove, was a plate piled high with a small mountain of bacon.
“Good morning, Koby,” he said, quickly stepping around his friend to snatch a piece of bacon before he could be denied.
“Hey!” said Koby, swatting at his hand like a mother hen. “Good morning Sleeping Beauty.”
Collin rolled his eyes and quickly stuffed the bacon in his mouth. It was the best thing he’d eaten since waking up in the hospital.
“Are you ready?” Koby asked, frowning at Collin.
“Yes, I’m starving.”
“For church. I meant, are you ready for church?”
Collin looked down at himself and gestured with his hands. “It’s breakfast time, man. Stop joking around.”
Koby folded his skinny arms over his tiny chest in his best tough guy stance and stared at Collin.
“Why the hell did you cook bacon, in my house I might add, only to try and whisk me away to church of all things?” Collin was genuinely disappointed.
“You don’t remember Pastor Pendell asking you last night? And then you agreed to attend church. All of this was after the Council meeting. Ringing a bell yet?”
Collin’s head and shoul
ders slumped in defeat. “Damn. That’s right. Do I really have to go?”
Pastor Pendell had indeed “asked” him to attend church. Collin knew damn well that church attendance was essentially mandatory in Goshen. So of course, he had agreed.
Koby shot him a look.
“Fine. I’ll go get ready,” said Collin with a groan. He pushed his chair back and stood up.
“Sit down and eat first. I was just messing with you.” Kobyashi laughed, waving his hand to stop Collin. “You should have seen your face, man. Like I just dick punched you. Priceless.”
“Idiot.” Collin sat down.
Koby brought out a pan from the oven with hash browns and set it on the counter. He piled some on a plate, with a stack of bacon and a pair of fried eggs.
“Toast is on the way,” Koby said as he put the plate in front of Collin.
His eyes grew wide at the feast. “This is amazing, man. Thanks.”
Conversation was sparse as both men ate quickly, enjoying the small feast.
Collin looked up at Koby, who was shoveling food into his mouth.
“Did you know Pastor Pendell before the fever?” he asked.
Koby shook his head. “Never knew him or the town until I showed up. I was a wanderer that they took in. Thankfully, I had useful skills to offer in return.”
“Did you come alone?”
“No. There were others. The fever is a cruel bitch. Most of them were consumed by it before we started receiving BT76. A few died from Viper attacks,” said Koby. He looked at Collin and said, “Technically, you’ve been in Goshen longer than I have.”
Collin grunted. “What the hell is BT76?”
“Basically, it’s a vaccine of sorts. It temporarily protects us from the fever. I’m not up on all the medical lingo, but we have Dr. Horner for that,” Koby replied.
Collin chewed his last mouthful of eggs and hash browns and made a mental note to talk to the doctor about the fever.
After breakfast, Collin dashed upstairs to shower and change. Before Koby finished washing the dishes, he was dashing down the stairs ready to go.
Praying for War: The Collin War Chronicles Page 6