by Paul Kirk
“Go on, major.”
“Would you like any details of the actual skirmish, colonel?”
“No, major. We can come back to that later if needed. Please continue.”
“Yes, ma’am. The next morning, Phoenix sent seven men and seven women to Erie to claim the spoils of victory. They took the one Erie survivor with them to explain to the Erie leader, a Mr. Murdock, that ‘war-time reparations’ were to be made. Or else.”
“Or else, what?”
“Or else the entire Erie community would be annihilated within 180 days. Phoenix’s demands were simple: send one hundred horses and one hundred high-quality young women along with fifteen thousand rounds of ammunition. When this demand was refused, Phoenix crushed the Erie community forty days later. He returned to Cleveland with all the surviving Erie women, horses, food, and ammunition. He's also managed to commandeer and man six additional fishing vessels, bringing them to Cleveland. In the meantime, he systematically destroyed Erie, setting fire to anything that would burn and dumping anything on their fields that would make the soil infertile. Put simply, he left no man standing and set the city on fire."
“Phoenix doesn’t play games, does he?”
“Ma’am, I’m just saying that if you’re thinking of asking Connor MacMillen to meet you in Cleveland, we might end up with more than we bargained for.”
“Yes, major, I understand he might be somewhat of a force to reckon with. Go on.”
“Sure. We’re told that Phoenix put into place something called a five-year plan. He immediately forced all able-bodied individuals to work, creating arable land for crops, planting both within the city limits and in the outlying suburbs. Asphalt and concrete were removed and transported from city central to create a defensive mound three miles outside the city limits. Overall, the project was a minimal success the first year, but he kept after his people relentlessly and since the second year the farms produce fresh vegetables and fruit in excess of population needs.”
“I’d love to have a fresh salad. That’s something I definitely miss from the old days.”
“I agree, ma’am, a salad would be nice.”
“I’m sorry, major, go on.”
“Sure. It seems Phoenix has served as Mayor of Cleveland for a little over four years. Not only has he held the city together, but he continues to build a population that does his bidding. He set up a voting system for key community positions every year between Christmas and New Year. The voting system includes the mayor position. Since Cleveland is on Lake Erie, he’s put together a working navy, capable of defending Cleveland from a lake attack while also supplementing the food supply with a significant amount of fish. He had seventeen operating ships and all are well armed.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Yes, ma’am. So we're told. He was once a powerful superintendent for the elevator industry. He’s well read, mostly focusing on historical writings. He's very charismatic, a natural salesman. Runs a tight ship, ma’am.”
“Yeah, major, it sounds like it. What are you afraid of?”
“Phoenix is a relative unknown, ma’am, and a powerful force. He clearly wants power. Wants to expand his realm. He’s organized and has a firm power base. He's very well suited to respond militarily, so I’m not sure we want to cruise into his neighborhood with our limited resources.”
“I wouldn’t call our Superhawk and men a limited resource, major.”
“No, of course not, ma’am, but we don’t know what he has to go up against it.”
“Yeah, good point. What are your recommendations?”
“I suggest we direct any rendezvous with Colonel MacMillen more to the south—maybe Akron, for example. No reports of organized groups in that area.”
“Sound advice, major. But I’m a little surprised at your reticence. Have you forgotten that you're talking to the President of the United States?”
“Never, ma’am, but to that Cleveland bunch you might just be some fine puss—” Major O’Malley stopped abruptly, clamping his lips shut tight. Blushing red, he averted his eyes, swallowing hard. He turned to Captain Daubney, seeking assistance, but the captain was staring at him, mouth agape.
“Major!” snapped Colonel Starkes.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You have my permission to speak freely.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What were you saying, major?”
“Uh...”
“Major!”
“Yes, ma’am. Um...well, ma’am, it’s just that this Cleveland bunch may see you as...um...a desirable female and not necessarily the President of the United States.”
The colonel smiled at his tact, but was pleased by his use of the word "desirable". “You raise some valid concerns, major.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Captain Daubney, what’s your opinion?”
“We go back to Camp David, ma’am. We found CJ and Nicole—our mission’s accomplished. Let’s take them to where they’ll be safe. We can go after Colonel MacMillen after we replenish our supplies and secure more men. Maybe that second 'copter.”
She wiped CJ’s face with a red mechanic’s cloth and adjusted the blanket around him to protect him from the oncoming evening chill. His green eyes shone brightly with interest, following her movements. She returned her gaze to the two men beside the hammock.
“Give me some time to think about what you’ve said. Gentlemen, I thank you for your input. Captain Daubney, you’re dismissed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The captain walked off to check on the perimeter guard.
“Major?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let Nicole know that if she'd like more of a break, CJ can sleep with me in my quarters for a while. I still have almost a full bottle. Tell her she might use this opportunity to take that bath that she’s wanted. Make sure that she has all the heated water she needs and she’s welcome to a bar of the scented soap none of you men would ever use.”
“Yes, ma’am.
“Let her know that she can have CJ whenever she wants, but that he's welcome to stay with me the entire evening.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that, ma’am.”
"Dismissed."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."
CHAPTER 3.2-The Presidential Seal
“Major, this is what I want included on the leaflets.” Colonel Starkes handed the major a sheet of paper. “I want his name centered on the paper in large bold letters. The information should be included on both sides of the paper.”
“Yes, ma’am,” answered the major, studying the paper. Nicole had made this one, her artistic skills obvious with the neatness and symmetry of the letters.
“I want you to put about ten guys on this for as long as it takes to make 10,000 of these.” This was about half of the paper that they had taken from the FedEx and, in the colonel’s estimation, would give them a very good opportunity of succeeding at their task.
The leaflet read: By order of the President of the United States, Colonel Connor MacMillen (serial #1985638) is requested at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio no later than September 8th. Your country requires your help. Colonel Hannah Starkes, President of the United States of America.
“I’ll begin right away, ma’am.”
“Nicole is already through with about a hundred sheets. Have your men join her and if they have any questions, she can answer them.”
“Yes, ma’am.” It would be a lot of work, probably in excess of 300 man-hours. It would take ten to twelve people three eight-hour shifts to complete this task. The major began to plan how to tackle the logistics of the deployment of his men.
Two days later, 10,000 were ready for distribution. The only question left was where to drop them so that Connor might find one.
CHAPTER 3.3-Answers are Needed
“Mac?”
“Yeah, Snuff?”
“Mind tellin’ me what’s so important in the mountains south of Pittsburgh that you’re
determined to travel all the way back from Australia and across the entire damn continent to find it?”
Connor closed the book he was reading in the living room and stared at Amanda. Swallowing twice before responding, his thoughtfulness turned serious.
“Why now, Amanda? Why you want to know after all our time together?”
“Mind tellin’ me?”
Connor rose from his chair near the farmhouse window, standing before her.
“No, I don’t mind, not now, not after our time together.”
“So, what is it?”
“Answer me first,” said Connor, “Why now, and then I’ll fill you in.”
Amanda touched the kitchen countertop with her fingertips, nervous. Asking the question had taken intense preparation. Almost more than she had. Her hair was neatly combed and held by a shiny blue barrette she’d found in the small bedroom; she had tastefully applied new make-up to her eyes and cheeks. She wanted to look especially pretty today when asking what she had always considered 'The Big Question.’ But, now her cheeks blushed under Connor’s intense stare. Without meeting his gaze, she felt him examining her face for clues.
“Amanda?”
Taking time to regroup, Amanda turned toward Marty, lounging on a brown recliner ten feet away. She saw he was reading a battered, semi-waterlogged novel entitled Armor and that his ears had perked up when she put forth her question. She’d guessed the same question had weighed on his mind for the last ten days since joining them at the farmhouse. Connor walked to his backpack, carrying it into the sunlight near the window. Amanda tracked his path. Gently, he sat it on the chair nearby.
“Mac? Amanda? You want me to leave you two alone for awhile?”
Marty dragged himself out of the recliner and stood, ready to leave.
“Amanda?” asked Connor.
Amanda considered the question.
“No, we’re a team now. We’re too small to hide anything from each other that might affect the future.”
“Okay, so, go on then. What’s this about?” asked Connor.
“Well, for starters, I notice you're not calling me Snuff.”
“C’mon, Amanda, give me some damn credit. You know I can tell when I should be serious.” He approached, gently holding her shoulders. “And, this is definitely one of those moments from what I can tell. So c’mon, what’s going on?”
Amanda reached up to take both his hands in her own. Connor felt the slight tremble in her grip and immediately his knees became weak. It was as before, in another time, but he forced himself to stay in the present with this beautiful young woman. She had something important to tell him. Surprisingly, this time, he found he was better able to speak.
“C’mon, Amanda. Please tell me.”
Amanda attempted a big smile, but Connor sensed the fear and hesitation. And, he knew what was coming. He remembered the look and experience came into play, as he focused on showing the deep care and joy he had for the young woman. It was all that was needed to assist in her revelation. It did not take long.
“I’m pregnant—at least I think I am.”
“You are?” asked Connor. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I'm pretty sure. I missed two periods. Never have before. And I dunno, I’m feeling different.”
“Listen," said Marty, "I’ll be outside gathering some wood, okay?”
Marty left without another word. Neither Amanda nor Connor noticed.
“But that’s wonderful, Amanda!”
“Yeah?”
“Sure it is.”
“You’re not mad?”
“No, why the hell would I be mad?”
“I dunno, I thought, maybe…you’re going back to the mountains…to find someone.”
Briefly, the smile on Connor’s face evaporated and his eyes took on a distant stare, as if recalling the past. Amanda noticed.
“I’m sorry, Mac!” She leaned into his arms and held him tightly. She began to cry. “I’ve ruined everything!”
Connor gripped her tightly, kissing her hair. “Nah, you did nothing of the kind. Nothing of the kind.”
The embraced continued with Connor softly stroking her hair. Eventually, Amanda stopped trembling and Connor pulled her into position to face him, smiling.
“Well, I'm thinking we’ll need to add a few more new team members to keep you outta the sniping position in a few months. Can’t see you dragging your tiny little ass into those woods with a big belly sticking out.”
Amanda softly punched his chest.
“You’re not mad at me?”
“C’mon, Amanda, I’m not mad. Please believe me. And I’ll take good care of you…and the baby.”
“I don’t want to lose you, Mac.”
“You won’t.”
“But…tell me. Please. The mountains?”
After a moment, Connor released her and walked to the backpack resting near the window. Amanda waited by the chair, not yet invited. Carefully, Connor opened the front section of the backpack before glancing at her.
“Come here. I guess I want you to be the first to see some of the stuff I have in this pack. I think it’ll help explain why I have at least try to get back to my place in the mountains.”
Amanda took a few tentative steps in his direction, hesitating. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but her curiosity propelled her the final few steps. They stood together near the window in the streaming sunlight. With care, Connor pulled a few items from the pack. Amanda waited, watching him caress a Sony PSP and two games, each still in their wrappers.
“I bought these in Sydney when I was visiting a friend. He’s dead…I buried him and his wife in their backyard. These are for my boy…Liam. I got two kids.”
“Oh.”
“Liam would be twelve come December.”
“Really?”
“I promised I’d bring him a PSP when I came home. No matter what else I did…he made me promise on the phone…you know, before the Sickness. No matter what else.”
“Umm…”
“He was seven when I left for Australia…it was so easy to promise.”
Connor caressed the box, lost in memories. His hands shook as he reverently stroked the plastic wrapper. Amanda stood next to him. Abruptly, Connor shoved the box into her hands, pulling out a colorful package about the size of a Kleenex box.
“This is Shannon’s. She’d be nine come November. Biggest blue eyes you ever saw; as pretty as yours. Though, I’m not sure she’d remember me—she was so young. But I promised I’d buy her some Polly Pockets, and that’s what those are.”
“Aw, Mac,” said Amanda, crying.
She held the two presents to her chest and she reached to stroke his cheek. Connor took no notice; he was in another place, another time. Hesitantly, he reached inside the pack, withdrawing a small, velvet-covered box. He handed it to her unopened.
“This is for ‘T’.”
“T?”
“Short for Terry. Theresa…my wife. I…always called her that.”
The searing pain in Connor's eyes overwhelmed Amanda. It was the first true glimpse into his soul. She stumbled toward the recliner, needing to sit, and tumbled in. Connor followed, waiting. For a moment, she stared at the box in her hand, unsure if she should open it. She didn’t want this to be happening, though she knew Connor. She had always suspected he was trying to regain family, but denied the suspicion internally, not wanting it to be true. It was logical, his driving need to return to the mountains southeast of Pittsburgh.
“I have to know if they’re alive, Amanda. I can't not know."
She nodded.
“I know it’s unlikely they survived, but I have to know.”
Amanda gently tapped the box top with her finger and lightly stroked the black velvet. She caught the pain in his eyes and realized that, in some strange way, the pain he felt was now her own. She opened the box and found an emerald necklace.
“It’s beautiful, Mac. It is.”
“You…you think so, Amanda?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s very pretty. She’ll like it. I know…”
The square-cut emerald hung on a long gold chain. It was at least a carat and built into a filigreed gold setting that had an elegant old-world feel to it. Gently, Amanda closed the box, returning the necklace. Connor took it and softly traced the box edges.
“I love her, Amanda. Like I love you. Her and the kids.”
Amanda wiggled from the recliner, standing. Touching the box once more, she grasped his hands in hers.
“I know, Mac. I figured as much. Now, I know for sure.”
“Don’t cry, Amanda, c’mon. It’s not what I wanted, you know that, right?”
“Sure. Yeah. I’m sorry. It’s just that…”
Trembling, Amanda spun around and ran out the back door. For a moment, Connor let her go and then followed. He found her near the small pond where they’d last made love. Leaning against a tree, she gently sobbed, refusing to turn at his approach. Connor stood a few feet away, at a loss for words. Softly, Amanda spoke. “We’ll find ‘em for you Mac. For you. We’ll find out what happened.”
Connor approached, smiling gently. He wiped his eye before gently touching her cheek and brushing her tears aside.
“You know, Amanda, I dunno, times have changed since the Sickness. It’s a completely new messed up demographic. But, I’m making a promise right now that you can always stay with me if you want. No matter what.”
“Oh, Mac…we’ll find her. You and me.” Almost to herself, Amanda laughed. Deep down, she knew there had to be another woman in his life. “But, Mac…when I show up with you arm in arm, I imagine you might have some explaining to do.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”
CHAPTER 3.4-Liam Gets His Bear
“I got him, Mom! I got him!” exclaimed Liam. He ran toward the large, black bear and prodded it with his rifle, confirming death.
“Yeah, Liam, you got him,” she said, proud of her son. She took the weapon from his hands, confirming that the safety was engaged. Satisfied that the bear was dead, she spent the moment studying her son. He had grown quite a bit over the past few months. His slim shoulders were gaining width and his legs were increasing in muscle mass. He was definitely on the cusp of puberty and, while she was proud of the man he was becoming, she was sad about the loss of the child he once was. She missed his innocence.