Solar Storm: Homeward Bound

by Vincent Keith

  37

  THREADING THE NEEDLE

  Jack woke to the sound of whispers and motion just outside the tent. He tried to sit up and found himself trapped by the sleeping bag, which to his surprise, was occupied by a sleeping Rachael. Vague memories came back, not quite real, not quite solid, of a mumbled conversation about keeping warm. He looked to the other side of the tent and saw Lexi. She was still sound asleep in her bag, with her mother’s bag on top like a blanket and surrounded on two sides by almost a quarter ton of dog.

  Jack gently shook Rachael’s shoulder. “Hey, time to get up sleepy head.”

  Rachael opened her eyes and smiled. “How’s the leg?”

  “Sore, but not nearly as bad as other parts of me.”

  “That's not too surprising. I knew we’d be putting a lot of strain on unused muscles, although I suspect only you and I are going to be feeling it.”

  “Hmm,” Jack laid back and tightened and loosened muscle groups one at a time. “Yeah, my calves and hamstrings I understand, but why my stomach muscles ache is beyond me.”

  “Balance and posture. Keeping your upper body in place while your seat is moving around. But the injury is ok?”

  “Yeah. I guess I’ll know for sure when I start moving around.”

  Jack could feel Rachael tugging on something with her feet as he got his foot untangled. “What are you doing?”

  “My sweater and pants are down there keeping warm.”

  “Ah.”

  Rachael got the sweater and pulled it on, elbowing Jack in the head in the process.

  “Ouch!”

  “Oh Jack, I’m so sorry. It’s just so dang hard trying to get dressed inside a sleeping bag.”

  “Yeah, which is why I get out of it first. It’s not like a little cold air is going to kill you.”

  “It might.”

  “So, just who exactly was keeping who warm last night?”

  “I think it’s perfectly obvious. I’m the trained professional, and you are the patient.”

  “That’s your story, and you’re sticking to it?”

  “It’s all perfectly accurate.”

  “Hmm, well far be it from me to complain. Whichever way it worked, I slept like a rock.”

  Jack wiggled out of the bag and grabbed his own pants and sweater from the bag he used as a pillow. He put them on while trying to keep his feet off the snow that made up the majority of the tent floor.

  He stood with a groan and hobbled over to the camp chair Aaron had given him and sat next to the cold stove and put on his boots.

  “Oh, this day is just going to suck.”

  “I take it you’re sorer than you thought?”

  “Yeah, maybe it’ll work itself out.”

  “But the wound?”

  Jack looked down at his leg with a mixture of relief and consternation. “That’s the least painful thing below my arms. It seems to be fine. Everything else is complaining. The loudest complaints are from places I didn’t know I even had.”

  “Good, I think the exercise is going to do a lot of good. You’ve healed up better than I’d hoped for,” said Rachael.

  “I suspected you were a lot more worried than you let on.”

  “I’m not a surgeon sweetie. I’m a trauma nurse with a Doctoral degree in nursing practice. Which means I’m not even an M.D. I just get to work on my own.”

  “Close enough for me, as the evidence clearly shows.”

  “Let’s just try to avoid a repeat shall we?”

  “Let’s,” said Jack with a smile. “I’ll let you deal with the lump under that pile of dog. I’m going to go check on the guys.”

  “Let her sleep until breakfast is ready, she’ll need it.”

  “Okay by me.” Jack waved and crawled out the tent door into a light flurry of snow.

  I knew it wasn’t going to last, he thought. It wasn’t too bad, not more than about an inch of new snow. And it was just as light and dry as the previous snow. He looked around and spotted Allan already shaking out blankets and saddling horses with Doug. Miguel—Sergeant Hernandez, was breaking down the other tent, and already had the stove heating water. Jack headed to the stove to check on the water, which was still cool. Having a few minutes to spare, he hobbled over to get a status update from Miguel.

  “Miguel?”

  “Morning Jack, water is on the stove, it’ll be a few. Figured maybe we’d just have coffee and oatmeal this morning?”

  “That works for me. Maybe some of the dried fruit?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Cinnamon? Brown sugar? Honey?”

  “Yeah that too,” Miguel said with a smile. “As long as there’s coffee.”

  “Amen to that. Here, let me give you a hand folding.”

  “Thanks, it’s been a while, I usually have someone to do this kind of stuff, or I’m doing without.”

  “I suppose I could have talked Brian out of a few more men, but this little expedition was getting big enough already.”

  “Hooah! Now, if you can just hand me that corner?”

  Jack reached across the gap and gave him the corner. “Hey Sergeant, I appreciate having the night off from standing watch, but let’s not make a habit of that okay?”

  “Sir, my orders from the Captain were clear. When the Doc say’s you’re cleared for duty, you can arrange the watch schedules anyway you want, but not until then.”

  “Ah, jeez, they’re ganging up on me.”

  It took only a few more minutes to get the tent into its bag. While Miguel dealt with the stakes and ropes, Jack got the coffee started. He added the oatmeal to the other pot and turned the heat down low before going to check with Corporal Hoffman and Allan Reismann.

  “Oatmeal okay with you guys? Some dried fruit? Cinnamon? We’ve also got brown sugar and honey.”

  Doug stopped tugging on the cinch strap of the saddle and turned toward Jack, “Uh, whatever the Sergeant is having will be fine.”

  “Allan?”

  “Sure, some raisins and honey are what I usually have. Oh, I think there’s a small bag of walnuts in my pack, we can use those too if anyone else wants some.”

  “Works for me,” said Jack.

  Jack went back to the stove and spooned oatmeal into plastic bowls. He looked at what remained and realized he’d made too much. Well, maybe the dogs will eat it, he thought.

  As it turned out, there were no leftovers. He wasn't surprised by his appetite. Waking up with sore muscles always led to a big breakfast. He was a bit surprised by Allan and Lexi who managed to split what was left.

  Rachael and Lexi broke down the Kifaru tent while Jack cleaned up the breakfast dishes and made a second pot of coffee that would fill the thermoses.

  Lexi came back from the latrine, which was nothing much more than a trench dug through the snow and sixteen inches into the dirt. They’d rigged a couple of tarps to provide privacy—as much privacy as two tarps could provide in a wide-open field anyway.

  “I think that’s the thing I miss the most,” said Lexi. “A real bathroom, and real toilet paper, and real hot water.”

  Jack chuckled at the look on her face. “When we get home, I can set you up with all of that, except maybe the TP. We’ll have to see how well that’s held up, but given the number of new additions to the Monastery, I’m not hopeful.”

  “Well, even a flush toilet would be an improvement over a ditch in a field. Three months ago I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near that.”

  “Yep, evil times. Just try to remember, we’re way better off than many, so keep your eyes peeled while we’re traveling. Someone is going to see all these horses as too tempting to pass up. The sooner we discourage them, the better.”

  “I’ve got my binoculars right here,” she said, pulling them from beneath her parka.”

  “Where’d those come from?”

  “Oh, Art gave them to me. He said they were just collecting dust.”

  Jack smiled. “Yeah, sure. Those are Zeiss Victories. Collecting du
st, why do I think he wasn’t entirely truthful?”

  Lexi held the binoculars up and examined them, “Well, no they’re not dusty, but I think it was just an expression.”

  Jack laughed. “Lexi, new those cost somewhere around two thousand dollars. Unless…can I take a look?”

  Lexi worked the strap from under her collar and hair then handed them over to Jack.

  “Yeah, did he show you how to use the laser range finder?”

  “Yeah. Art said he used to use them for golf. To figure out how far away the hole was.”

  “Huh, well I suppose, there are lots of reasons for a good range finder. Anyway, this particular model, which I have an exact copy of at home, go for just north of twenty-five hundred bucks.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow.” Jack focused the optic on a distant tree and hit the ranging button. The digital display showed 863 yards. “Seems to work which is nice. Try not to use the range finder unless we need it. I’ve got extra batteries that’ll work in these, but it’s always better to not have to change them right when you need them.”

  “Why would Art have given these to me if they’re worth so much?”

  “I guess he figured you’d get a lot more use out of them being on the trail than he would. Well, that and he likes you. Which is, well, it’s just shocking.”

  “Oh, shut-up. And gimme back my binoculars.”

  Jack saw her expression and winced.

  “Hey, come here.” He gathered Lexi into a hug. “Art’s a good man, and we’re all going to miss him, but he was your friend, so it’s natural you’ll miss him most. It’ll be okay. You’ll get to chat on the radio as soon as we make it home, probably sooner if Brian left one of the military units with him… Did he? Do you know?”

  Lexi gave a muffled sniff then pulled her head back, “It’s not fair. I just got my first cell phone, and then everything stopped working.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s harder on the younger generations, heck it’s bad enough for me. I’ve always been a tech junky. I could never afford the latest and greatest, but I did okay. I’m just glad we managed to keep as much working as we did.”

  Lexi planted her cheek against his chest and squeezed. “I don’t know.”

  “Huh? You don’t know what?”

  “If the Captain left a radio for Art. I hope so.”

  Jack smiled at the non-sequitur reply. “I’ll check with Miguel. You ready to go?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. Sometimes it just hits me really hard you know?”

  “I do. I’d say it’ll get easier with time, but honestly… I haven’t a clue.” Jack gave her one last squeeze. “Scoot, I think we’re holding everyone up.”

  Lexi pulled away, wiped her eyes, and gave Jack a quick smile as she ran off, long legs bounding through the snow. Jack watched her go, wishing he still had that kind of energy. He groaned as he forced his stiff, sore muscles forward through the knee-deep powder.

  He spotted Corporal Hoffman filling in the latrine; the tarps already folded and packed. Damn, those guys move fast.

  “Rachael, did the dogs get fed?” asked Jack as he got close to the horses.

  “Yeah, Lexi fed them before we ate.”

  “Sergeant?”

  “Ready to roll as soon as Allan stows the shovel. I’m going to send Doug a couple hundred yards up on point. He’s less likely to attract attention as a single, and he’s damn good on point.”

  “Does he have everything he needs?”

  “Yes sir, he’s got the range finder for quick looks and the spotting scope if something looks especially interesting. Intel says there’s a guard on the bridge at Umatilla along with a short company from the Umatilla Army Depot. The town had a rough patch about two, three weeks in, looting, shooting, fires. Same old story. The depot commander sent in a company, cleaned out the trouble makers. They elected a town Marshal, so it’s stabilized a bit.”

  “That’s a good thing. That the army is leaving civilians in charge, I mean.”

  Miguel nodded. “They estimate about thirty percent of their population was lost in the chaos. I know they’re working on a trade deal with Hermiston. I’m sure Sheriff Jackson had someone talk with them too. I think the plan was to supply meat, probably horse, to get them through the winter. They’ve promised fish in return. Apparently, there’s a good run of Steelhead right now. Intel was light on that.

  “Huh, wonder what value they put on those? Pound for pound…sorry, you were saying?”

  “Above my pay grade. I do know that the General sent extra troops down to the Umatilla Depot with supplies. He decided that last thing he needed was to lose a bunch of chemical weapons in the chaos.”

  “Shit, I forgot all about that storage depot. I take it they’re sitting on Hermiston too?”

  “Yeah, the supplies got there quickly enough to provide relief for the town, but even so, there was trouble. Not as bad as Umatilla but…bad.”

  “If I’m surprised at all, it’s by how well things have held together. Honestly, I was expecting a lot worse.”

  “That’s what the Tri-Cities got. Worse that is. Based on intel—which isn’t all that recent, there is a good-sized settlement based out of the old Hanford nuclear site. They probably picked it for security. Given what’s happening all around them, it was probably a good choice. The rest of the area is bad news.”

  Jack nodded.

  “We’ll cross US-12 about eight miles west of Walla Walla, which puts it better than fifteen miles east of Kennewick. It’s a bit like threading a needle. We’re trying to plot a course to avoid trouble. The Tri-Cities are not as bad as Seattle or Spokane. Still, it’s best if we can avoid them. Most of the farms or ranches within a few days’ walk have been raided, pillaged and burnt to the ground.”

  Miguel paused, then kicked at the snow.

  “It’s worse than what we saw in the Stan sir… Fuck, this is the USA, it’s not supposed to be like this.”

  Jack gave the Sergeant a moment to get a grip. Seeing everything you’d spent your adult life protecting fall under such a pall of darkness had to be brutal.

  “You’re right, but people are still people. If they are hungry enough and scared enough, then the paper-thin veneer of civility disappears, and the animal underneath comes out."

  Jack looked around to see if anyone was close enough to overhear.

  "Have there been any reports of cannibalism?”

  “Yes, sir, most of the big cities, even some in the Tri-Cities, which is another reason we’re going well around,” he said with an uncontrolled shiver. “Mary, Mother of God, how could they?”

  “Well, we shouldn’t run into any on the route we’re taking so try not to think about it. Let’s get moving.”

  “Roger that. Doug, you’re on point, keep us in sight but give as us much room as you can.”

  “Hooah!” Corporal Doug Hoffman kicked Sagebrush into a trot and headed north. The plan was to camp just north of US-12, but that was still almost thirty miles north, and that would make it a very long second day.

  38

  CROSSING THE BRIDGE

  Over the next three days, the team developed a solid routine. Jack was taking turns on watch duty, which helped. They hadn’t quite made it to US-12 by the end of the second day. They’d made almost forty miles on each of the following days. Early on the fourth day, they came down the hill to cross the Snake River at Lyon’s Ferry. Jack suspected that Lyon’s Ferry at one time had used a ferryboat, but it was a bridge now. Doug came back from point to brief the group.

  “There’s an occupied KOA campground,” said Doug. “It’s pretty damn full. They’ve got lookouts, but I don’t think anyone there has a clue. We’ll have to talk to them regardless. There’s no other way to get across the river within three days, and they’re all but sitting on the bridge.”

  “Yeah, I was afraid of that," said Sergeant Hernandez. "I guess you and I will go in and see what's what. Let's pick up their lookout on the way in. I want something to dissua
de them from shooting before we talk."

  “Do you think that’s likely?” asked Rachael.

  "No ma'am I don't, but if we have one of theirs with us, I believe it'll go easier. We'll nab him, sit him down and explain how it's going to work. Then we'll give him back whatever he's armed with and walk into the camp with him. If they see he still has his weapon, they'll be less likely to panic. And frankly, it won't help him a bit if he decides to try something."

  Jack smiled, “I realize you guys have the skills to back up that swagger but don’t get carried away. I’d miss your smiling face, and I like having short watches at night.”

  “Roger that,” the Sergeant replied with a grin. “It shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll explain that the Captain will be following in a few weeks, and he’ll be bringing enough supplies to give them a real boost. The implication that they’ll get hammered if things don’t go the way I want will be…motivational”

  “Okay. I guess you’ll send someone back for us?”

  "Yeah, one of theirs. If everything is okay he'll have the codeword spruce. Otherwise, it'll be hemlock or nothing."

  “Hemlock. Well, that seems appropriate under the circumstances. Any suggestions as to how we handle that.”

  “Yeah but none of them good. Best bet, shoot the SOB right between the eyes and then radio the Captain. After which I’d head east in a hurry. There’s another crossing about twenty miles along. You can scout that and if it’s clear, take it. Otherwise, I’d sit tight and wait for reinforcements. You aren't trained for a rescue mission, and you’re not trained to go up against vastly superior numbers, so don’t.”

  “Hmm, not good is hardly adequate,” said Jack. “Let’s not tell them about the extra horses, and it might be better to not mention our exact numbers.”

  “With all due respect sir, don’t try to teach your grandmother to suck eggs.”

  Jack snorted a laugh. “Well, pardon me, grandma. All right, I guess we have a plan. Allan, you stick with the girls and the horses, I’m going to plant myself up that rise with the .308. If they send more than one back this way, I’ll hold them off while you guys head east. I’ll try to work my way over to the other crossing, but it’s likely to take me quite a bit longer.”