The mountains of northeast Oklahoma were wholly antithetic to her reputation. When most people thought about the Sooner state, they visualized open plains. Some even painted the entire state with the image of an arid expanse that reflected the southwest edge of the region that blended seamlessly into the near desert dryness and flat plains of eastern Texas. But Concharty and Leonard Mountains arose jointly above her plain as lush, towering, bulbous knobs jutting insolently from the brown expanse of rolling prairie. They were geologically old and their weathered roundness attested to their age and soft sandstone faces that easily succumbed to the wind and rain.
“How do you suppose that GPS still operates outside even during a quantum storm?” Wattenbarger asked Warren as he carefully rotated his Garmin hand-held over in his palm, kneeling by his pack as he loaded it in preparation for the hike across the top of Concharty Mountain to the Leonard Mountain Geophysical Observatory.
“I’ve often wondered that myself,” Warren responded. “But being a career military officer, I figured that since there’re only five ground stations that coordinate the entire constellation, it would’ve been a relatively easy proposition for the government to shield them. After all, GPS is one of the most vital of all of our defense equipment, so taking care of it would have been a top priority. And all military satellites are not only radiation hardened, but electromagnetic pulse hardened as well. A quantum storm would hardly challenge them.”
“Well, if I have to trust my life to your buddies and their gadgets, then you’ll excuse me if I still carry one of these,” Wattenbarger replied, holding up his Suunto compass.
“No problems here,” Warren responded, pulling his own Bushnell digital compass out of his pack and flashing it at his friend.
“At least if your batteries go south, we can still use mine,” Wattenbarger quipped flippantly.
“Okay, boys, for heaven’s sake, stop it with the ‘my toy’s bigger than your toy’ and get with it, will ya?” Mel remarked with a sigh. “The window opens in fifteen minutes.”
“My toy is bigger than his toy,” Wattenbarger replied with a toothy smile.
“Oh, please…” she breathed exasperatedly, turning away from them with a blush. “I swear, if I ever live to be a hundred, I will never understand men.”
“What’d I say?” Wattenbarger asked innocently, turning to Warren with a shrug.
“It’s obviously not what you said but more like your facts were reversed,” Warren remarked with a snicker.
“At this point, I’d say there’s only one way to end all this conjecture,” Wattenbarger retorted, dropping his pack and standing, flashing Warren a sly wink.
“I’m out of here,” Mel said, quickly turning and walking away. “I’ll be waiting at the entranceway in 15 minutes, so please be ready. Until then, you can find me and Marbles holding a more mature conversation.”
“Perhaps we should follow suit,” Warren replied to Wattenbarger. “Okay, let’s summarize the plan. We head out of here along our planned route,” he said pointing to a map laid out over his knee. “We begin marking our trail on the hill’s crest so that if anyone decides to follow the markings they won’t easily find the cave.”
“That would be blazing the trail,” Wattenbarger corrected.
“Whatever,” Warren responded with annoyance.
“It’s the navy. I understand,” Wattenbarger replied.
“What?”
“You’re from the navy. Swabbies don’t blaze trails. They can’t,” Wattenbarger said neutrally, struggling to keep from bursting into an impish grin.
“Dale, if you don’t cut the crap, I’m gonna have to hammer you,” Warren threatened.
“Fine. And after you’re done, you can take him with you instead of me,” Wattenbarger retorted, pointing back at Charles who sat in front of a small DVD screen watching the Muppet show beside young Alex.
Warren sighed deeply. “Okay then. We’ll blaze the freakin’ trail. Again, we’ll take as many nights as we need to get through safely and find the most advantageous path. When we get to our time halfway point, we come back home no matter what. Sooner than later, we’ll have a reliable, and relatively rapid, path laid out to the observatory. Once that’s accomplished, we should have at least two hours per night to set up the system until it’s operational, if it’s even possible at all. Then we can operate it remotely from here.”
“If God’s willing and the creeks don’t rise,” Wattenbarger added with no trace of humor.
Promptly ten minutes later, just five minutes before the hazardous radiation window closed, Warren and Wattenbarger stood near the tight entrance leading out of the protected cave vestibule into the open anteroom, ready to depart. They were both dressed in long, camouflaged pants, a t-shirt and black boots, and outfitted with relatively full packs.
“Looks like you guys are ready for the war,” Mel commented.
“Can you handle things around here?” Warren asked her with a smile.
“No problem. Believe me when I tell you that Alex is my challenge now, not Lance. Now you two listen to me and listen good,” Mel lectured, facing them as though they were schoolboys. “Don’t push this deal. Don’t you dare even think about not coming back to this cave on time, on schedule and without a scratch on either one of you.”
“Not comin’ back wasn’t exactly on our list of things to do,” Warren responded with a half-smile.
Wattenbarger handed her a map. “Here on this map is our proposed trail. If we don’t return before sunrise, and you and Charles feel like recovering our bodies, you may want to look somewhere along this path.”
Mel looked momentarily stunned, then said sincerely, “If you don’t come back, then I’m going to hunt you down and kill you again.”
Wattenbarger smiled. “The scary thing about it all, Mel, is that I believe you would. So I fully intend to make it back so I don’t have to go to heaven with a mutilated body.”
“Good plan, mister; don’t make me…”
“Funny,” Warren replied, “back in the old days, when you left for a hazardous mission for home and country, you got a tearful send-off and flag waving, not all these threats.”
“Then that explains why so many didn’t come home,” Mel retorted without pause.
“Now I think I actually feel safe leaving her in charge,” Warren said with a wink.
“Don’t make me come out lookin’ for you after sunrise,” she said sternly.
“You do and I swear I’ll whip your butt, lady,” Warren responded. “Time to get started,” he added as he moved toward the outer vestibule.
“Wait,” Mel said, then she kissed Wattenbarger lightly on the lips. “Come back to me,” she whispered.
Warren sighed and said to Wattenbarger, “Let’s get out of here before you change your mind.”
Wattenbarger looked at Mel’s worried face. Then, unexpectedly, he swept her up into his arms and kissed her deeply.
Warren sighed and rolled his eyes back in his head. “Oh God,” he swore. “Now it’s outta control testosterone meets runaway estrogen. I can almost feel the pain. I can almost smell the diapers. But I can’t see a damn thing through the hormone fog.”
Wattenbarger released Mel slowly and stared deeply into her eyes. “I plan to come back and finish that,” he whispered.
“You’d better,” she whispered back, her eyes fixed on his.
Warren sighed again and looked at his watch as he stepped through the doorway.
Wattenbarger clutched Mel’s hand, raised it tenderly to his lips and kissed it lightly. Then he withdrew a .35 caliber Beretta Tomcat from his back pocket and placed it into her hand. “Ever used one of these?” he asked. “You never know what might come through that door in the dark.”
“Never used anything this small before, but, hey, if it moves I can hit it,” she said with confidence. She tucked the pistol into the front of her jeans and quipped, “Now get before old cranky leaves you behind.”
Wattenbarger stole an
other long look at Mel, then stepped quickly though the chamber’s inner wall. His eyes quickly spotted the entrance to the cave on the far wall. Warren had already uncovered its branch-covered opening, allowing the rapidly diminishing light of the evening dusk to enter the chamber.
As he stepped outside, Wattenbarger quickly piled the branch covering back in place. Since Mel’s surprise entrance and the devastative tornado, they had worked to more carefully disguise it.
“What was that all about?” Warren asked Wattenbarger as he worked.
“What?”
“Come on, Dale, the neckin’ at the doorway. You were tonguing her like there was no tomorrow.”
“Oh please, it was a simple kiss. And, hey, who said there was gonna be a tomorrow?”
“A simple kiss, my ass,” Warren snapped. “I’ve seen simple kisses. I gave my mother a simple kiss, God rest her soul. But that… that was no simple kiss.”
“What’s the point in this?” Wattenbarger asked with annoyance. “Is Lance’s prophesy of the woman causing trouble actually coming true?”
Warren stopped and looked at him for a long, hard moment. Then he sighed again as if releasing a burden. “You may be right. I guess I thought I might’ve had feelings for her, but that’s nothin’ but stupidity on my part. Before the storms I would’ve never given her a second look, she’s not my type. And I, for one, am not gonna let these damn storms change who I am – and you shouldn’t either, Dale.”
“Well, she is my type, and I don’t care who knows it!” Wattenbarger responded explosively. “And I’m not giving in to any storm induced neurosis. She would’ve been my type before the storm, too, and nothing can change that simple fact.”
“I should’ve known that, Dale. As far as I remember, no living female of any type, age, description, color or personality has ever been cut from your short list. Go ahead and admit it, our high school history teacher taught you well.”
“What?” Wattenbarger asked in exasperation. “What are you talking about now?”
“You know, what he used to say about women: ‘There are no ugly women in the world – just those few who may be a little less pretty.’”
“Your taste has always been in your mouth, Lew,” Dale said defensively. “You’d have to be brainless not to fall for Mel.”
“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about me messin’ with your woman. It’s better to be empty headed than have your brains in the clouds, distracted and manipulated by some female, anyway.”
Wattenbarger laughed loudly. “Well, all I can say is that at least I have two brains!”
“The Man With Two Brains. Yeah, they ought to make that into a movie,” Warren jested.
“And who’s gonna star in that?” Wattenbarger asked with bright eyes.
“Let’s go before we miss our time windows,” Warren responded.
“No, Lew, tell me, who gets to star in that movie?”
“Are you nuts? How the hell should I know?” Warren replied shortly, his voice now clearly giving way to full blown aggravation.
Wattenbarger spread his hands wide. “How about me? I could be the star of the remake of the Man With Two Brains. What d’ya think? When the world comes back together, we can make the movie, you and me.”
Warren stared back at Wattenbarger like he was a man who had just lost his mind. “Have you been outside sunbathing again? Is this level of intelligence going to comprise the extent of our conversations on this mission? Because if that’s so, I’m goin’ back into that cave and enlisting Marbles for a partner.”
Wattenbarger’s eyes widened again and he flashed a wide, toothy smile.
“What, for cryin’ out loud?” Warren asked, then realized he had just opened the door. “Never mind, let’s get goin’,” he quickly added, but it was too late.
“Marbles can be in the new movie - the Dog With Two Brains! It’s beautiful, and you know as well as I do that it fits him perfectly!”
“Ever heard of euthanasia?” Warren asked with a hiss.
“Sure, I believe it’s that Chinese student exchange program,” Wattenbarger responded with feigned seriousness.
“Well, you’d be wrong. And I intend to start with you then line your box with fur from Marbles’ hide.”
“Threats and jealousy, that’s all I ever get from you,” Wattenbarger replied, tightening his pack on his back. “But we’ll invite you to the premier anyway.”
“Who’s we?”
“Me and Marbles, of course. Who did ya think I was talkin’ about?”
“Next thing I know, you’ll be hanging a lip-lock on the stupid dog,” Warren muttered, walking away from the cave on the trail up the mountain.
“Never do males, actually,” Wattenbarger replied, following.
“That’s not what I heard,” Warren said flatly.
“Those small town rumors,” Wattenbarger responded with a sigh. “They never go away or die.”
“Did you really run a chain of gay bathhouses in San Francisco ?” Warren prodded relentlessly.
“No, but I sure wish I had.”
“Huh?”
“Well, from what I hear, some of them actually turned a few coins.” Wattenbarger continued. “And for all the grief I’ve taken over the years, I kinda wish I’d actually done it, now. Since I’ve paid for the sin, and then some, I should at least get to cash the check, don’t ya think?”
Warren laughed, his eyes scanning the ridge of Concharty Mountain just above them. “I see what you mean,” he said, obviously appreciating the truthful sentiment.
In but a few minutes more, they had skirted the debris tossed over the mountain’s edge by the tornado and stood on its crest.
“I can’t believe this,” Warren whispered as his eyes swept the northwestern horizon in the direction they would have to travel. The sun had now disappeared, but it had set behind a mountainous pile of debris that receded away from them for miles – as far as they could see in the distance.
“Those piles – they must be at least 50 feet high!” Wattenbarger said breathlessly.
“No. Look how far we are from them. They have to be at least 75 or 80,” Warren corrected, his eyes sweeping the astonishing vista of absolute chaos and destruction wrought by the great winds and massive twister.
“How do we get over that?” Wattenbarger asked.
“We’re not, it’s just that simple. We can’t.”
Wattenbarger stood in silence for a moment, then spoke the obvious. “So now what? Do we give up on tryin’ to make it to the observatory? Do we accept the obvious and go work for Lance? What now?”
“I said we can’t go over, I didn’t say we couldn’t go through. We have to find a way through this,” Warren replied, never taking his eyes off the monstrous piles before him. “And we have to do it quickly. We don’t have any choice.”
“What do you mean we don’t have any choice? Sure we do. We can work this for a few weeks and if we can’t find a passage, then we’ll go work plan B. We’ll take Lance’s plan and go scour the valley for food where we can find it.”
“We don’t have a few weeks,” Warren responded. “And if this plan doesn’t work out, then we might as well give up because Lance’s idea isn’t workable either. If we tried his plan, in a month we would either have gotten shot or scoured all there is to find in walking distance. It’s a grand exercise in futility. It’s stupid and dangerous to go poking around what may be someone else’s shelter. At best, it only delays the inevitable and not by much.”
“What did you mean when you said that we don’t have a few weeks?” Wattenbarger persisted, his voice alarmed and suspicious.
“When I arrived here in Oklahoma alone, I had four years worth of supplies. When you and Lance joined me, we cut that down by thirds. When Mel and Alex arrived, it cut it back even more. As far as I can determine, even if we begin severe rationing, we can’t make it more than three more months – four at the outside. But even at that, we can’t ration too much or we won’t have the ene
rgy and be able to make these expeditions out each day. We don’t have a few weeks to look for a passage. We need to find a relatively quick passage through that mess in one or two evenings, then get on over to the observatory and set up shop. As soon as we get this plan established, we can return to the cave and start a more serious rationing routine, but not before we get this job done.”
Wattenbarger scratched his cheek with his left hand, obviously deep in thought. “Hmmm. Are you sure this plan is even going to work? I mean, isn’t a few weeks of supplies worth more than this gamble? And, Lew, you have to admit, this is one wholesale gamble.”
“It’s all we have, Dale. It’s this or the long dirt bath. If this costs me a month of life at the end, it’ll be worth it, because you know and I know that if this works, we’ll be broadcasting to every submarine on the planet.”
Wattenbarger thought some more, then responded, “You’re absolutely correct – logically, emotionally and strategically. Let’s get on with it. What’s your plan?”
The sun had set far enough down so that the colors of the day had totally vanished. The darkness of the mountain settled around them and covered the scene with muted shadows, swaths of blackness and patches of deep grays. The super tornado had cleared out the center path of its carnage but had piled up towering debris fields on both sides of its plowed pathway.
“Let’s walk quickly over to the wall and down it and see if we can find a tunnel,” Warren suggested, switching his hand held LED flashlight on. Wattenbarger followed suit.
“That’s going to be nearly impossible in the dark,” Wattenbarger pointed out. “We’ll totally miss it unless it’s as big as the Holland Tunnel.”
“Actually, that’s what I’m countin’ on,” Warren said. “Tornadoes have a defined regularity to their structure, or they wouldn’t be dangerous. They do, however, also have strange, chaotic quirks, and that’s what I’m lookin’ for.”
“You mean like leaving my dad’s house standing in the middle of its path?”
“Exactly,” Warren responded. “If my guess is correct, we’ll find our Holland Tunnel through this pile sooner or later.”
Quantum Storms - Aaron Seven Page 49