Quantum Storms - Aaron Seven

by Dennis Chamberland

  “She actually fell on her belly!” Wattenbarger cried as they began to walk faster.

  The trio walked, half-ran toward the craft that grew appreciably larger in the dimming light as they approached. Soon, they stood breathing heavily at its wrinkled and blackened nose.

  The aircraft had indeed fallen on its belly, obviously losing its precarious balance during the previous hours and slamming to the ground. There were a few wrinkles in its skin past its crushed nose section and it still appeared to be strangely out of place, even though considerably less so than sticking upright and vertical.

  “Let’s go in,” Wattenbarger suggested, biting his bottom lip in anticipation.

  “No, not tonight,” Warren immediately responded.

  “What do you mean, ‘not tonight’?” Mel asked with unhidden annoyance.

  “We have the most important mission of all ahead of us tonight, and we can’t afford to fool around.”

  “It’s not fooling around!” Wattenbarger immediately replied. “We don’t know what’s in there. There may be vital supplies, supplies that could mean the difference between life and death…”

  “You mean booze?” Warren replied crisply.

  Wattenbarger’s face flushed with anger as he dropped his pack to the ground, turned and faced Warren . “That’s enough crap from you, Lew. I don’t take orders from you – I never did and I never will.”

  Mel saw what was coming and quickly intervened. “You’re both right, of course,” she said, standing in between them. She turned and secretly winked at Warren, then Warren thought he saw her turn and wink at Wattenbarger. “We’ll come back here tomorrow night when we can spend the whole night here with no pressures. Like, maybe even have a party here or something.”

  “Damn, this woman’s really good,” Warren whispered to himself. “In three seconds, she already has us both believing whatever we want to believe and feeling good about it.”

  Wattenbarger stooped to pick up his pack. “Fine, but tomorrow night, we all get a field trip, Lance included.”

  “Great plan,” Warren responded. When Wattenbarger turned to walk toward Leonard Mountain, Warren looked to Mel and whispered, “Thanks.”

  She smiled an unconcealed ‘I told you so’ in return and said, “Thanks for letting me come along.”

  The hike to the observatory had been eased by experience and a well marked and thoroughly hacked out trail so that it required only an hour and a half of relatively fast-paced walking. As they traveled, Warren reviewed the plan at the observatory in excruciating detail, even down to the color of the wires that would be spliced and the angle of the small solar panels they would mount on the ELF receiver that would receive incoming data from their cave and turn it into the signals that would be broadcast into the crust of the earth at the observatory.

  Finally, in the darkness, they drew near the observatory’s gate.

  “What’s that pile there for?” Mel asked as they approached the chaotic heap of trees, branches and refuse placed across the road in front of the main gate and from side fence to side fence.

  “We don’t know,” Wattenbarger said even as Warren began to pick his way over the mound. “It was obviously to keep vehicles out for some reason and, as you can see, it’s piled up to the tree line from one side of the road to the other. But it’s easy enough to walk over. Follow us, we’ve done this a dozen times and know the fastest and easiest route over the top. Just be careful; some of the logs aren’t stable and it has a tendency to rock and roll.”

  In but a few minutes, all three of them stood at the main gate under the starlight.

  “Over the top or under, your choice,” Warren said, tossing his pack over the fence and sliding his body under the aluminum bottom rail.

  Moments later, they had walked quickly past the main buildings of the observatory to the seismic data receiving tower on the southwestern fringe of the property.

  The relatively small tower jutted less than thirty feet into the sky. Beneath it stood a small looking building that had the grace and appearance of a farmer’s out-house with a tangle of wires running from the tower into its side.

  Warren quickly hammered the building’s lock from its door and opened it. Inside the shed was a single shelf of electronic black-boxes, more wire and at least fifteen dead rats littering its floor.

  “Yuck,” Mel said with a wrinkled nose, peering in. Warren ignored the harmless rodents and stepped on them indiscriminately as he entered and set up his work light.

  “They’re still soft,” Mel moaned and shuddered, moving one of them with the toe of her shoe.

  “And sterile,” Warren responded. “Stew one of ‘em up and the meat’ll taste like chicken. If they’re soft, that means the meat’s still good.”

  “You’re joking, right?” Mel asked.

  “No, I’m not,” Warren responded. “And when we’re starving to death in a few months, we’re probably gonna come back in here and get ‘em.”

  Mel looked pale.

  “Mel, can you climb this tower?” Wattenbarger interrupted.

  “No! I won’t have it!” Warren replied, slamming his tools down and facing them.

  “Why not?” Mel asked. “I can get the job done faster than you because I’m lighter and quicker. And I’m not afraid of heights.”

  “Because I’m responsible for you and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Warren replied.

  “No! You are nnnn…” Mel snapped, then she paused in mid-sentence and smiled back. “I really appreciate that, Lew, I really do. I’m sorry I misspoke. What I meant to say was that I need to feel like I’m a part of the team here, and I also have a lot of experience at these sorts of things. And I wanted to say that you’ve always made me feel like I can contribute, so this is a little thing I’m asking and want your blessings on just having this small part in your plan for our rescue. Please, Lew, it’ll really mean a lot to me,” she concluded with an angelic, pleading and hopeful look.

  Warren started to speak, and then pursed his lips. He looked at her with frustration, then closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “Woman, are you sure you’re not a trial lawyer? The last time I was had by a speech like that was when my ex-wife’s attorney convinced the judge that she really needed me to pay for her new Mercedes and the weekly groomin’ bill for her ugly, mean, little shitzu.

  “Okay, okay, climb the freakin’ tower. Fall and break your neck. Sue me when it’s over. I don’t care… let’s just get the job done! Plug this baby in and start sendin’ messages! I wannna go home early tonight.”

  “Thank-you, Lew,” Mel said, flashing a bright smile and giving him a tight hug.

  “Now you can plainly see why some people don’t want women in combat,” Warren replied seriously, looking at Wattenbarger with a confused stare. “Here we got a life and death mission on our hands and I’m getting hugs from the troops after the point man assignments are passed out. Damn strange, if you ask me.”

  Over the next ten minutes, Warren carefully and patiently described the installation procedure to Mel. She then looped a run of wire to her belt and slung a light backpack over her shoulder holding the antenna and small solar panels she had been instructed to affix near the top of the tower. Then, expertly, she slipped her foot into the tower’s bottom-most rung and worked her way quickly to the top with what appeared to be practiced agility.

  Warren shook his head in wonder, then looked to Wattenbarger. “I’d swear that woman was a lineman, if I didn’t know better.”

  “Lineperson,” Wattenbarger corrected.

  “What?”

  “Never mind,” Wattenbarger responded, his eyes and flashlight beam shifting up the pole.

  In just half the time they had anticipated for the job to be completed, Mel clambered back down the thin tower. “All done!” she said triumphantly.

  “All done?” Warren asked with surprise. “I thought you forgot somethin’ and came back down to get it.”

  “Nope. All done,” she said, dusting
her hands with a beaming smile. “Piece of cake.”

  “Good job!” Wattenbarger congratulated her, slapping her lightly on the back.

  But Warren just stared back up the tower, feeling as though he should have gone up and done it himself. Now there would inevitably remain a seed of doubt.

  “Let’s get back!” Mel said, still smiling. “We can celebrate with a huge breakfast, then we can turn this baby on and send out the first message!”

  Warren finally smiled. “Hey, sound’s like a plan! And, by the way, this breakfast’s on me!”

  “I hate to break the news to you, Lew, but all the breakfasts have been on you.”

  “Don’t remind me, please,” he responded dourly.

  They walked briskly back to the main gate. Sliding under, they stood before the huge pile of logs and branches.

  “I’m happy we don’t have to come back and deal with this pile of crap ever again,” Wattenbarger said, looking at the chaotic heap before them.

  Warren started over first, followed by Mel and Wattenbarger. Warren stepped off the pile onto the asphalt drive just as Mel rounded the top. Suddenly, the expedition’s uncomplicated pace ended as Mel’s form disappeared from their sight down into the tangle of lumber and she screamed in pain.

  “Mel!” Warren and Wattenbarger shouted together as they leapt toward her.

  “Oh, God, it hurts! Get it off me!” she cried.

  “What? What happened?” Warren screamed, laying on the top of the pile and shining his light down. Her head was just at the pile’s crest, but her body was down inside the mess, her face rigid with agony.

  “It’s got my leg,” she said, breathing heavily with obvious pain. “The logs shifted and trapped my leg. My right leg. I think it’s broken.”

  “Oh my dear God,” Warren hissed, his mind racing with all the immediate ramifications of such an event. While they were now more than an hour and a half ahead of schedule, they were in a true fix. Even if they were able to extract Mel at this precise moment, they were going to have to carry her all the way back across the two mountains and down to the cave before sunrise.

  Wattenbarger, apparently aware of the new urgency, dove into the pile upside down and inched his way below her waist, his face skimming her right leg.

  “I see it,” he said from inside the pile, his own voice etched hard with the urgency of the moment. “The logs shifted and scissored her leg right above the knee.” Warren lay atop the pile and shined his beam at the position of Wattenbarger and her leg.

  “Damn! Can you pull it out?” he asked urgently.

  “I’ll try,” Wattenbarger responded, shifting his position for some leverage in the tight space. “One, two, three,” he warned, as he gripped her upper thigh and then pulled with all his strength.

  Mel screamed loudly and in excruciating pain.

  “Stop it!” Warren cried. “Get over here. Come off the pile and talk to me.”

  “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me,” Mel sobbed, tears streaming down her face, her hands frantically reaching for Wattenbarger as he pulled himself out.

  As he passed by her face, Wattenbarger looked into her eyes. “Mel, listen to me. I’m not gonna leave you, ever,” he said, his eyes boring into hers. Then he kissed her on her forehead. “I’m not gonna leave you,” he whispered as she began to sob openly. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” he quipped as he leapt toward Warren and they scrambled off the pile.

  “How bad” Warren asked bluntly.

  “Bad. Real bad. Her leg is pinned by one log trying to roll over the top of another – just above her knee which looks to me like it’s crushed.”

  “Can we shift the logs? Can we un-stack them? Can we leverage them? What? What?” Warren asked in rapid fire succession.

  “Yes. All of those, if we had the time. And we don’t. Any of those will take hours.”

  “What are we gonna do now?” Warren asked Wattenbarger, his face flushed red even in the weak beams of the lights they held in their hands.

  “I don’t know, but I know that leaving her is not an option!” Wattenbarger spat, his angry eyes searing into Warren ’s.

  “I oughta just knock you on your butt for even thinkin’ that,” Warren responded, his narrowed eyes locking onto Wattenbarger’s.

  “At least we have that cleared up,” Wattenbarger replied. “Sorry. No offense.”

  “None taken,” Warren responded with a short sigh. “Now start thinking.”

  Wattenbarger’s eyes unfocused and literally began scanning an invisible space before him as Warren had seen him do since they were children. This meant that he was as deep in well-organized, efficient and creative thought as any man alive. Wattenbarger could scan, evaluate and eliminate options faster than any individual Warren had ever known.

  “We’re going to have to amputate her leg,” Wattenbarger suddenly said, his eyes now open in pools of obvious terror.

  “Are you freaking out of your mind?”

  “No,” Wattenbarger whispered with razor edged, unemotional logic. “We are out of options and out of time. If any of us want to live, we have to amputate her leg, right now.”

  Warren ’s eyes just stared back. He was speechless. “There’s got to be another way, so think, think, dammit!”

  “I can waste the time thinking or we can get on with it,” Wattenbarger replied as Mel moaned in pain from the pile behind them.

  “No, there has to be another way,” Warren hissed. “We can start un-piling it right now. Sooner or later we can reach the logs and move them, just a few inches is all we need.”

  “Warren , even if we had the time, which we don’t, those logs are going to need a chain saw to move. Both logs are as big around as my waist and they’re jammed together like branches in a beaver dam. We’d have to un-pile four or five feet of logs from the top, which we can’t do without a chainsaw, and that’s just to reach them. It would take at least four hours just to un-pile to that level. Then it would take another hour or more if we could find lines to tie to the fence to leverage them apart - maybe. And we don’t know if there’re actually any lines like that around here, and by that time, it’d be mid-morning and we’d be dead anyway.

  “Now I’m perfectly comfortable with not cutting her leg off, if you can think of another alternative, then I’m listening. But from the way I see it, she either loses her leg and we all get an outside chance to live, or we all die right here in that pile holding hands, singing kumbaya and getting our brains roasted with heavy primaries from the quantum storms.”

  “Damn you,” Warren hissed, his face flushed red with a near lethal blood pressure spike. “She may not survive sawing her leg off in that pile, much less packin’ her like a bag of spuds over those hills. And we may not have the time for all this anyway.”

  “None of us are gonna survive if we keep standing here arguing,” Wattenbarger replied with cold logic.

  “Okay, so who’s gonna do it?” Warren asked. “I know that I sure as hell aint gonna shimmy down in that stack of logs upside down and calmly saw her leg off with my pocket knife. Not me!”

  “Well, I guess that leaves me, then!” Wattenbarger hissed back, slipping his four inch stainless Smith and Wesson Extreme Ops knife from his belt.

  “So who’s gonna tell her?” Warren pressed, his lips curling into a smile that was almost evil. “Who’s gonna tell her that we actually plan to saw her leg off with a pocket knife?”

  Wattenbarger just stared back at him, obviously not having an answer to that pointed question that he had not calculated in his long list of available options.

  “We’re gonna tell her when we get back to the cave,” he finally answered. “She’d probably die of shock if she knew what we were gonna do.”

  “What you mean is, you could die with that knife stickin’ out from between your eyes if she knew what you planned to do with it!” Warren responded with a sick chuckle but down-turned mouth, his face still lined with horror. “So what’s your plan for anesthesi
a?” he asked. “I’m fresh out of chloroform.”

  “You’re gonna restrict her carotid while I’m working,” Wattenbarger responded quickly almost as though he had read it in a manual.

  “You mean choke her?” Warren asked incredulously. “I’m sure glad there aren’t any more Grand Juries in Wagoner County ! Can you imagine explaining this one to the DA? We choked her to death as we were hacking her leg off in a brush pile.”

  “No, not choke, you idiot!” Wattenbarger responded. “I’d do this myself, but I can’t be in both places at once! I mean finger pressure on her carotids. It’ll cause her to pass out momentarily.”

  Warren ’s breathing was labored and he could feel his fingers tingling. As a career military man, he had stood close to death before, but never had he held the life of so dear a friend in his hands.

  “Okay, here’s the plan,” Warren whispered back to Wattenbarger as Mel moaned in pain again. “We’re going inside the compound to look for pry bars. Then you and I are going down inside the pile on either side of her and we’re gonna pry the logs apart with the bars and slip her leg out. Then we’re gonna take turns running home with her on our backs until we get back to shelter.” Warren looked at his watch. “We’re close to running outta time. If we aren’t headed southeast inside of an hour, we won’t make it.”

  Wattenbarger nodded. “Sounds like a very reasonable plan, Lew, it may work. God, I pray it’ll work!

  “Wait,” he added, touching Warren ’s right arm. “Let’s track all problems at once. While we’re in there, we need to look for anything that’ll help the amputation, especially antibiotics and a small saw.”

  “May I remind you, the entire planet is a sterile field for operations,” Warren clipped.

  “Not her skin,” Wattenbarger said. “We’re sheltered, remember? Her skin’s crawling with microscopic bugs and most of them will cause infection.”

  “Right… right,” Warren considered. “Also, look for hydraulic jacks, bottle jacks or even a floor jack and a chainsaw or a tree saw, anything that can help us here…”