by John O'Brien
Still, the sheer number of food he smells residing here is tempting so he camps on the edge of the lot watching. He watches to see if there is any progress with the multiple attempts to get inside. He’ll know if they get close by the change in shrieks and by a change of images within his mind. It’s filled with images of the others right now but it’s no more than a series of multiple conversations occurring. His group is anxious to join in the attempt but he holds them back, sending images to wait and see. They stay, trusting him as he’s not led them astray so far.
He stands, rising from his squatting position, and trots around the building. It doesn’t appear from the noise and images that any progress is being made. The night is only half over and they have fed, but they’ll need more before the night is over. Again, the thought that they’ll have to move intrudes into his mind as he completes a circle around the structure. Every entrance is covered with packs trying to find a way in. He doesn’t see any other way. There have been several times in the past when he has had to leave a place without being able to get inside. He can’t afford to spend all night in one place and run the risk of not finding food. Too many nights without finding any and his pack will disperse or another leader will step in.
A sudden flash fills his mind and he is instantly alert. He recognizes the building and wonders how. He feels the minds of the others around him stronger but with a different clarity. He knows he is on the hunt with his pack but wonders why the ones by the building are repeatedly slamming into the front door when it’s obvious they won’t get in that way. He knows he can send an image telling them this and begins to form the picture talk in his mind. He also realizes he knows a different language and that he’s as comfortable with that one as much as the one he’s about to use. The word talk and picture talk are just two ways to say the same thing. The word talk can’t be sent mentally and he knows it wouldn’t be understood by the others even if it could. The clarity in his mind fogs and vanishes as quickly as it came. He has stopped and brought the pack back close to where he began.
He squats in his former position watching. The thought occurs that, with so many other packs here and apparently staying until they find a way in, they are not out in the streets and surrounding area. That means any food he finds will be for his pack and for them alone. With that in mind, he stands, gives a loud shriek that rises above the cacophony of noise already around the building, turns and heads off at a run across the dry grass fields.
The others around the building stop at a shriek rising above their own and look to the source. They see a large pack just cresting a hill in the field beyond and disappear behind it, heading away into the night.
A Rolling Stone
I walk to the second floor balcony and look over the changes that occurred during my mental absence, with Lynn, Bannerman, and Frank leaning against the railing next to me. The clothing racks, shelves and such have been removed from the interior on the first and second floors clearing out much of the space. The stuffed animals have also been removed from the large centerpiece in preparation of removing it as well. The weapons racks and weapons have been installed along a wall with several shelves shifted to accommodate other items. Cots have been laid out in rows along the top floor with spaces between them to give the appearance of privacy.
“You’ve done a marvelous job,” I say to Bannerman who mostly coordinated the efforts.
“Thanks, Jack. We have the kitchen working and running water. This place has a well and a pump and so, as long as we have power, we’ll have that benefit. Frank has a base radio up and running and is training some of the folks we picked up and has scheduled shifts,” Bannerman responds.
“Very nicely done. All of you,” I say nodding in appreciation.
“Sergeant Connell assigned teams for supply runs and we should be good for a while,” Bannerman adds. “At least we won’t have to worry about water in the interim. Oh, and we found an employee break room and small locker rooms complete with a couple of shower stalls.”
“Nice,” I say listening to his report.
“Jack, there is one thing you should know and something we may have to deal with somehow,” Lynn chimes in.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“We lost another soldier,” she says.
“How?”
“It wasn’t through any night runner action. He was from Mullins’ team. He was outside on lookout while the others went in for supplies. When they came back out, he was gone. His rifle was leaning against the building but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. They searched the area and called out but never found him. I think he just had enough and walked off,” Lynn says. Bannerman and Frank nod in support of her view.
“We’ll have to brief the team leaders to be on watch for changes in personality or a sudden quietness with folks. Sometimes it will seem easier to just give up rather than put up with the stresses of surviving another day,” I say with a sigh.
This is not the last time someone will want to give up, I think. The changes have come about so rapidly and our situation has a constant tension that weighs on the psyche. Everyone has their breaking point. And I mean everyone. It can come about with the seemingly smallest thing but it is the literal straw. The mind folds inward and a person in that moment can’t think clearly. Sometimes though, it seems clarity does come through and it’s through seemingly rational thought processes that these types of decisions to quit come about. The will to survive is eroded through stress and/or fear.
“We’ll keep on the lookout for him,” I add. “How have the doors held up?”
“Remarkably well. We have visitors every night but they’re not showing any signs of wear so far. We’ve been checking them daily,” Bannerman answers.
“Good. Okay, we should talk about our plans for the future and start prioritizing our needs. We can do this with just us or with the team leaders. What does each of you think?” I ask.
“I’m okay either way,” Bannerman answers.
“I think we should keep it to ourselves. I feel time is of the essence and we can prioritize more quickly if we keep the group small,” Frank adds his opinion.
“I’m in agreement with Frank,” Lynn says.
“I think that’s probably better as well. What about adding Drescoll to our group?” I ask.
“I’d be perfectly content with that,” Lynn responds with the others nodding.
“Okay, let’s make sure everything is shut down tight and let’s get together after we eat,” I say. Everyone nods and we separate; Lynn to see to the doors and security, Frank to continue his training with those on the radios, and Bannerman to see about getting food ready for everyone to eat.
We all gather in the restaurant dining area and eat some of the canned food that has been warmed up. There’s a feeling of wholeness and completeness with everyone in our group gathered. I still feel the loss of Nic deeply within and wish she were here to see a semblance of normalcy return; being able to eat with one of the first feelings of safety we’ve had. I say a silent prayer to Nic and the feeling of loss returns but without the same intensity. The time it took to get to this point of security and normalcy seems so long in the making; the losses, the close calls, the fears.
Little Robert passes by carrying a tray of food, with Mike hard on his heels and Kathy right behind him, “I’m sorry about your daughter, sir,” he says on passing.
“Thank you Little Robert,” I respond patting his head. Mike looks at me, then to Little Robert and, with a small whine, follows the food.
Gonzalez and the rest of Red Team move a table next to ours and plop themselves down. She then relates the story of getting Carrie and that she seems to be recovering completely. “We’re glad you’re back, sir,” she says finishing her story and bites down on the spoonful of food she had been holding.
“Well done and I’m glad to be back as well,” I say.
We eat with the murmur of conversation drifting around the room. The first metallic bangs against the front security do
ors announce the arrival of our night runner friends outside. The sound startles everyone with the suddenness of it but it’s also become an expected part of the night. The bangs bring silence to the room before the murmuring and conversations pick up again. I turn to see Horace’s Blue Team along the far balcony on watch.
“Cressman is down with Bravo on the first floor as well,” Lynn says seeing the direction of my look and knowing my thoughts.
I nod and turn back to my food, actually tasting it for the first time in days. Not that it’s a gourmet but it’s nice to have some senses return. I feel a touch ashamed of being absent; for not being here for the group after dragging them across the world with the lure of a sanctuary. It feels like a weakness of not being able to handle anything that comes about. Not that losing Nic or the feeling of the intense grief feels like a weakness, just that I should have been able to handle it better. Part of my mind tells me that those words are just BS but that’s how it feels nonetheless.
Plates are gathered and returned as individuals finish. Teams that are done replace Horace’s and Cressman’s teams on guard duty so they have a chance to eat as well. Bannerman, Frank, Drescoll, Lynn, and I gather to the side of the second floor away from everyone else to talk. I have Robert and Bri with me to listen in.
“This process of building a wall is going to be a mammoth undertaking and we’ll need other things done as well,” I say starting our discussion. “I feel though, that this should be our highest priority besides maintaining the level of security we already have.”
“It’ll only be a matter of time before they find another way in or hammer those bloody doors down,” I add with the sound of night runners pounding against the steel roll doors outside. It does sound a little diminished from the previous nights but my mind was in such a fog that I’m not certain.
“So what are you thinking?” Bannerman asks.
“Well, my overall thinking is there are miles of those concrete walls along the Interstate up by Tacoma. We should send two teams up there to get them; one for security and the other to disassemble them and load them up. The team supplying security will leave two members out for that and the others will be driving the transports. That means we’ll need a large supply of fuel for the vehicles. We’ll need other supplies as well so two teams will be assigned to Bannerman to see to what we need. One team will be needed to erect the wall here,” I say.
“That’ll be a lot of equipment we need,” Bannerman says.
“That’s true. I think we’ll need two cranes back here, one to offload the trucks and one to move the parts into place. I see using four large semi’s to cart the materials back given the manpower we have for this and one crane to move the wall partitions from their places and to load them,” I reply with Bannerman taking notes.
“We should be able to find those easily enough. Finding people who know how to operate them will be a different story,” Bannerman says finishing with his jottings.
“It’ll be a learning curve, that’s for sure. But what hasn’t been lately,” I say. “I was thinking Black and Green Teams could be up gathering the partitions and transporting.”
“You want my team and me up getting the wall?” Lynn asks.
“Well, I was thinking your team could be up doing that but I want you to put together a training program for the others we picked up and for any we find. I want everyone that is here or comes in trained,” I answer. “I was thinking of having one team here on standby in case any of the teams run into trouble. They can help with the training and your being a previous drill instructor puts you at the top of the list to develop it.”
“Okay, I can do that. Do you mean everyone? Like Little Robert? Like Bri?” She asks.
“Well, we have to have a cut off on age but I want Bri in on that along with Robert. Not Little Robert,” I reply.
“Hmmmm… Okay, Jack. I’m not in agreement with Bri but I’ll put a program together,” she says.
“Bri gets put in, Lynn,” I say hearing Bri give a little sigh just behind me.
“Are you sure, Jack?” Lynn asks referring to the loss of Nic. A quiet hush falls among the group at the reference. The noise inside of people shuffling around on the other side of the balcony, getting ready for bed or just moving, rises above the silence. The hammering of the night runners rises above all else at times.
“Yes, I’m quite sure,” I say quietly. I still have qualms about anything that puts my kids in danger but I definitely want them trained. I don’t know if it would have made a difference with Nic or not, but if it could make difference later to save the lives of Robert or Bri, I want them to have it. It doesn’t mean I’m about to launch them out into buildings, I just want them trained.
“Okay, Jack, I’ll put it together. We’ll train during the day while the others are gathering items, but if I’m to do this, then I’m in complete charge. No interference, Jack,” she says.
“What? Are you implying I would interfere with any training?” I ask.
“Of course not, Jack. I would never imply that. How could I possibly ever think you would interfere?” She answers with her total innocent look, which of course brings a smile to my face.
“Okay, point taken. You’ll have complete control and I won’t say a thing,” I say.
“Oh yeah, that’ll happen,” she says rolling her eyes. “Just remember this conversation, bucko.”
“I hate to bring this up, but what are we going to do about all of the dead bodies and the probability of diseases?” Frank asks.
“Yeah, there’s that. I think we can agree that we don’t have the manpower to carry them out or bury them in mass. The only thing I can think of is to burn the housing developments with carefully controlled burns. I just don’t see any other way,” I answer giving my opinion.
“What about any survivors though? They’ll get caught up in that,” Drescoll asks and says.
“That’s a good point. We’ll have to make sure any teams assigned to that detail roll through the neighborhoods with loudspeakers and try to find anyone around prior to setting the fires. We’ll have to make sure of wind direction and such as well,” I respond.
“And how will we keep the fires under control?” Frank asks.
“We’ll have to get some fire trucks with water tenders from the fire station. We’ll train on the trucks and use the streets as fire breaks,” I answer with Bannerman starting to write again.
“How many trucks?” Bannerman asks.
“I don’t rightly know. I think we’ll need two teams on the burns; maybe Alpha and Bravo. I guess every truck we can lay our hands on. Have the trucks run behind the main line of fire and put out anything that jumps the streets. Of course, that could quickly get out of hand with the embers in the air and if they settle somewhere downwind starting other fires. We’ll just have to keep the fires limited and not let them rage out of control. All I’m thinking is that we need to get rid of all the bodies within a fair piece of area around us,” I answer not knowing the right solution.
“If I could go back to the wall for a moment, how high are we looking to build it?” Bannerman asks looking at his notes.
“I think twenty feet high should do it provided we can put the partitions together without creating hand or foot holds,” I answer. “Anyone else think differently?”
“I think that should be high enough,” Lynn answers with her opinion. “I mean, the night runners have tremendous capabilities from what we’ve seen, but they’re not supermen nor can they fly. At least not that I’ve seen.”
“I agree, that should be high enough,” Drescoll adds. “Are we planning to look for others outside of the burn areas?”
“I think eventually we will be out doing just that when we have a few more people. Right now, at least the way I see it, we should be concentrating on getting our place up and running; building the security. We’ll need to bring in livestock and build greenhouses if we want to sustain ourselves in the long run. I have it my mind that we need to get the wall
up and the long-term food in place by winter. We’ll be able to eat through the winter on supplies we can find on hand and our fuel situation may be critical by next year; that is, the fuel will be unusable by then. My opinion is that we should use that fuel to make sure we have a viable, long-term place for the people we do have,” I say in answer.
“I’m not disagreeing with you at all, just asking if we are going to look,” Drescoll says.
“Most definitely. I think we owe it to them to look for them when we can,” I say to which everyone nods.
“So, speaking of long-term, what about using solar power for our long-term energy needs? At least for this building,” Franks asks.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Bannerman says flipping a page on his notebook and writing more.
“As long as you’re writing, you might put down some of those towable generators found at those road construction sites. We could rig one up with a breaker so we can use the pumps at gas stations,” I say. Bannerman nods and his pen flies across his pages.
“What about integrating a nightly training session for the entire group? We get together before dinner and have a topic for the night or several nights running, finding someone who has an expertise at something, anything, and we all learn. Complete with both classroom and practical applications if necessary. Everyone knows something so we should share the knowledge. I could draft a schedule along with the other training,” Lynn says after Bannerman’s pen slows down a notch.
“I like it,” I say nodding.
“Yeah, sounds good to me,” Drescoll adds.
“What do you want me to do?” Frank asks.