by Josh Hilden
“What base?” Rich asked, “I mean excuse me for being dense, but I was a SEAL before I was forced into the Army so my knowledge of military bases where you can’t dock a submarine is sketchy at best.”
“White River is the only thing near here.” Capshaw said, “But it’s just a storage depot for old records and vintage surplus.” He looked confused at Nancy, who was subconsciously shaking her head back and forth. “What do you know that I don’t?” He asked her.
“I just know that my dad said to meet him there, an old family friend is the base commander.” She bit her lip and everyone knew that she was holding back. But everyone loved Nancy, so they let it drop.
“Why don’t we consider that as our back up plan?” Lisa said, “If we can’t get into White Harbor, we will head to White River.”
Nancy looked a little pouty and didn’t say anything else for the rest of the meeting. When they were finished Lisa asked her to wait a second, and when the others left she closed the door to the command bus and gestured for the standing Nancy to have a seat.
“I know why you want to go to White River.” Lisa said. She figured there was no need to bury the lead. This conversation would either get everything out in the open and make things better, or it would make Nancy take Charlie and leave the Caravan.
Nancy looked at her hard and then said, “All I know is that my father…” but Lisa never let her finished that rehearsed speech.
“Bullshit,” Lisa said. She didn’t yell it was clear she was irritated. “I was stationed at White River for six months before I was deployed to Afghanistan, and I am intimately aware of what the place really is.” There it was, all her truth was out there, now it time to see what Nancy would do with it.
“If you already knew, then why didn’t you just tell me back in Hession?” Nancy asked. She never broke her gaze from Lisa’s.
“What was the point? At that time I wasn’t even sure that we would make it this far.” She’d not uttered those words to another living soul, not even Sam.
“But we have.” Nancy said, “And my father is probably there right now.” There was accusation in her voice.
“I’m not stupid Nancy. I have been trying to raise White River for days. Either they are observing complete communications silence or they have fallen.” Lisa said.
Nancy didn’t say anything for a few seconds then in a soft voice she whispered, “I have the code words.”
Lisa’s jaw dropped.
14
11:10pm EST
The compartment of the communications vehicle was a sauna compared to the icy wind that was cutting through the encampment. Lisa and Nancy hurried inside and shut the door before acknowledging the young woman on duty inside.
“Private, I need you to step out for a minute, go get yourself a cup of coffee.” Lisa said gesturing toward the door.
“Yes, Major,” she said and vacated the vehicle.
Lisa sat in front of the radio and adjusted the dials. Then she keyed the mic and said a silent prayer. “White River this is Major Lisa Sutton of the 1st Michigan Emergency Response Battalion, access code Gamma Tango Hotel one nine seven six, please respond, over.” She let go and waited for a response. Just as she was about to try again, there was a burst of static, and then a surly older voice that she had not heard in years replied.
“Who the hell is this, over?”
“General Hart?” Lisa asked, she was shocked that a Brigadier General would be monitoring his own radio equipment.
“I’m the one asking the questions here.” He said.
Nancy gestured for Lisa to give her the mic, and when Lisa did she keyed it and talked. “Uncle Ryan, is that you?” Nancy asked and Lisa heard the excitement in her voice.
“Nancy?” The General asked, and now he sounded more human.
“Dad said to tell you that he still owes you for stopping him in Nam. Has he arrived yet Uncle Ryan?” She asked and then held her breath waiting for a reply.
“No Nan, he hasn’t arrived. The last I heard from him was when he was still at Wright Patterson on day three, he said he was working on a way to get here, but that it could be awhile.” Now that he’d decided he was really talking to his God Daughter, Ryan Hart sounded more relaxed. They exchanged a few more pleasantries to assure one another that they were OK, and then General Hart asked to be put back on with Lisa.
“Alright Major Sutton, explain how you got here and what kind of unit you are leading.” He asked in the no nonsense tone that she remembered from her time under his command.
“Sir, the Battalion is made up of the remnants of National Guard, civilian militia, and local law enforcement personnel that have linked up as we fought our way North from Ann Arbor.” She spent the next 25 minutes giving a comprehensive rundown of the journey from the University to just outside White Harbor. He interrupted with questions seldom and when she’d finished he let out a long whistle.
“That is a hell of a story Colonel.” He said, and then continued. “I hereby confer on you a brevet promotion to the rank of Lt. Colonel in the United States Army, and retroactively authorize the formation of the 1st Michigan ERB with you in command. I also confirm all promotions, enlistments, and commissions that you have made in the course of your duties. I know this may seem unimportant, but we are still the United states Army Colonel and where possible we will act as such.” He sounded pleased to be able to make these decisions.
“I’m not sure if I should thank you or not sir.” She said and then joined him and Nancy in a chuckle. After the laughter had subsided he got serious again.
“Your first order of business is to attempt to secure a base of operations in White Harbor. They seem to have their shit together there, Colonel, and our job is to protect the civilians when possible.” There seemed to be something wrong, and so Lisa asked the question that had popped into her mind.
“Sir, why haven’t you linked up with the people there, if I remember correctly, don’t you have a significant force stationed there?” That was an understatement and they both knew it. White River served double duty as a bio research facility and as the base for a battalion of Army Rangers.
“That was the case until day two of the crisis, Colonel. On that day all of the Rangers, with all of their weapons and vehicles, were shipped to Minneapolis and St. Paul to help with the containment efforts there. We never heard from them after that. All I have now is the scientific staff and one Platoon’s worth of support personnel. I’ve been in contact with the leadership in White Harbor, and we have been coordinating efforts. If you need someone to vouch for you, have them contact me.”
She thought that he’d told her everything but then he delivered the coup de gras. “The facility is also surrounded by about 500 of the Dead. It seems that the lights on the perimeter fencing drew them. We are effectively trapped for the moment. They can’t get in, but with all the operable helicopters and armored vehicles gone we can’t get out.” He sighed.
Now she knew why he had been monitoring the radio, he was desperate for help.
15
1:05am EST
Before they had signed off with the General, Lisa promised him that she would figure out a way to break the siege of the base after they had made contact with the people in White Harbor. The General told her that anything she could do would be appreciated, but that for the moment he and his people were safer than she was.
When they were finished, the formerly jubilant Nancy walked out of the communications truck and had returned to her tent. The Caravan used a pioneer style “Circled Wagons” formation when encamped to protect themselves from the Dead. With the sentries using night vision goggles or red filtered flashlights, and the Fangs to dispatch any unwanted visitors, they all felt relatively safe.
Lisa stopped at one of the supply vehicles, and took a small brown bottle she’d stashed away for emergencies and celebrations. As far as she was concerned this qualified as both. Nancy was seated in front of the tent staring at the small fire with tears rolli
ng silently down her face. She didn’t even seem to hear Lisa approaching, even though she took no pains to stay silent. The wind was blowing gently and the snow was still falling, in the distance there was a soft moan and then the sound of one of the sentries bringing their Fang down and silencing the nosey Dead.
“Wouldn’t it be warmer inside?” Lisa asked. Everyone in the Caravan had arctic rated sleeping bags acquired whenever possible during the journey.
Nancy looked up at her and smiled, which was a heartbreaking sight with the tears glistening in the fire light. “I don’t want to wake up Charlie.”
“OK,” Lisa said and turned to leave.
“No,” Nancy said suddenly, “Please stay.”
Lisa settled down next to the smaller woman and didn’t say anything for a full ten minutes. They just watched the flames crackle and the wood burn. Finally she took the small bottle of bourbon out of her field jacket and handed it to Nancy, “I thought you could use this.” She said lamely. She felt like some damn love sick school girl, and hearing her own words made her want to jump up and run away.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the bottle from Lisa. When their fingers brushed together, Lisa felt a jolt of electricity run up her arm. She attempted to stifle a sharp intake of breath, and hoped that she sounded as if she was reacting to the cold and not to Nancy.
Nancy broke the seal on the bottle, and then took a hard pull on the brown liquid within. Lisa was impressed that the woman didn’t even react to the burning sensation that had to be flowing down her throat. Nancy handed her the bottle, and Lisa did the same. When she expelled a small cough, Nancy grinned at her. They passed the bottle back and forth for the next half an hour, not talking and just enjoying the camaraderie. When the bottle was half way gone, Lisa decided that if she didn’t stop she would be useless in the morning, and waved it off when Nancy made to pass it to her again.
“Light weight,” Nancy said and then giggled. “You are such a fucking girl. You can’t even hold your liquor. I thought you were a soldier?” She was smiling as she said it and when she cocked her head to the side, and one her loose dark locks of hair fell over her face, Lisa felt her heart melt. And she felt heat from somewhere considerably lower in her body.
Down girl, she thought to herself, the last thing you need to do is misread your signals again. If you had had a better sense of Rachael’s mind, you wouldn’t have left the Army to be with her, and she never would have trashed your life. But she didn’t want to think about that. Rachael had been a nonissue for almost a year before the dead had risen.
“Lisa, can I ask you something?” Nancy said still grinning. A high flush had risen in her face. Her tone had become decidedly serious.
“Sure,” Lisa said a little uneasy.
“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” There it was, right out in the open.
“Umm” Lisa said, stalling for time.
Nancy didn’t let her hem and haw. She went on the offensive instead. “I know you like me. I catch you watching me all the time. I have done my best to show you that I am interested.” Now she looked pissed as she hammered the issue home, “But damnit are you just dense? I spend all my free time with you, my son loves you, and frankly I am sick and tired of waiting for you to decide that the rules are different now, and that you should be a big girl about it and not a teenager!” And on the last beat she lunged over and grabbed Lisa by the collar of her jacket and drew her to her. Their lips met, their mouths opened, and their tongues danced. The kiss lasted for a full minute and when they came up for air, Lisa had a dreamy expression on her face and Nancy was smiling.
“Was that so bad?” Nancy asked as she stroked Lisa’s short blond hair.
“That was wonderful,” Lisa said and then looked at her, “Are you sure…?” she began but Nancy cut her off with yet another kiss that was less forceful and much more passionate than the last. She allowed one of her hands to drop to Lisa’s hip, and the other to slip around the small of her back.
“I think I’m sure.” Nancy said when the second kiss had broken.
“Let’s go to your tent,” Nancy said and glanced at hers, “I don’t want to wake Charlie.”
When Lisa nodded, biting her lip. Nancy rose up and took her hand. They walked together hand in hand to Lisa’s tent, everyone they passed that was still awake smiled at them. They both knew that tomorrow would bring new problems and new horrors, but tonight there was just life and love. When they entered the tent, the air inside was cold and biting. It did not stay that way for long.
Chapter Two
1
White Harbor
November 10, 2012 AD (Day Twenty Two)
8:30am EST
It was 22 days since the Dead began to walk the earth. David Hall, Chief of the White Harbor Emergency Council, felt 10 years older. He knew that they had it better than probably any other community in North America, but knowing that did not make dealing with the day to day problems any easier to stomach. The constant need to send out hunters to take out the Dead that seemed to be arriving in greater and greater numbers was worrisome. The defenses around the core of the town were strong, but they also had fewer than two dozen fortified homesteads spread out in an arc that needed to be protected.
The stream of refugees drying up was a mixed blessing, White Harbor was not on the Interstate but it still sat at the intersection of two major roads in the area. White River Drive and the Superior Coast Road both ran very close to the town. This, coupled with the water borne refugees, meant that in the first two weeks the township had been almost overrun by people that were looking for safety. A great many of these people had been allowed to stay. That had meant that there had been plenty of hands to handle the growing number of jobs that needed doing. Hunting the Dead, reinforcing the defensive barriers, and salvaging supplies from abandoned and overrun communities topped that list. The distinct lack of new refugees over the last week meant that for the time being what they had was what they had. There would be no replacing lost bodies with new people, the citizens of White Harbor would have to absorb the losses and move on.
There was also the problem of outbreaks in the township to contend with. Not many of the free roaming dead made it through the screens of hunter’s patrolling the countryside, but there were mundane deaths within the safe zone that had to be dealt with. Herculean efforts were made to ensure that sanitation and basic medical care was one of the top priorities. Everyone knew the last thing that they needed, and it was a possibility that haunted David’s nightmares, was the occurrence of a plague.
There was word through the loose network of ham radio operators that plague was a real problem in areas where refugees, and some governmental groups, had managed to maintain a degree of control. The word was that Houston had managed to hold things together for several weeks, until an outbreak of an unspecified disease started a chain reaction which led to the abandoning of the once great city. Closer to home, radio intercepts from the Canadian City of Sudbury on the north shore of Lake Superior seemed to indicate that they were holding things together much like White Harbor until an influenza outbreak four days ago. The leaders there claimed they had it under control, but David was worried they would not make it through the winter.
David sat at his desk reading the reports that had piled up overnight. Behind him the sound of the furnace kicking on and the hot air being forced through the ducts made him smile. They still had power and that made them truly blessed. It looked as if this winter was going to be rough, at least that was been the prediction by the people in the know before everything had gone to hell in a casket. With the juice still flowing from the hydro-electric plant, he thought they had a fighting chance of making it. The report from the people at the dam, they’d made their permanent home up there on the hill, was that at the low output the town and surrounding homesteads needed, they had the parts and equipment to run the turbines for two to four years. It was a worry off of David’s shoulders for the moment.
There was a knock
at the door. Peter opened it and came in at his signal to do so. The young man took his duties seriously these days, and had moved into the Chief’s station full time because David slept here nine nights out of every 10. He wore a 9mm Beretta on his hip even though he was only 16 and had on one of the new green and grey uniforms, based on the Police Department Uniforms, which the White Harbor Militia had adopted as their uniforms. On his sleeves were the three stripes of a sergeant. David was a believer that order and organization, even if it was only a semblance, helped foster stability. It seemed to be working.