by JT Sawyer
Crawford chuckled and kept his eyes fixed in the distance, the lines of fatigue easing up on his face. “Well, Travis, I appreciate that, but unfortunately there are a lot of my people’s bodies bloodying the battlefield,” he said, rubbing his chin. “After my service years ago, I had hoped never to see the hideous face of combat again. It seems those who dance must pay the fiddler.”
“What you did, commanding your people through the chaos of this world, is no easy feat. You have to remember….” Travis was cut off by Crawford, who stood up.
“You should be heading north to Colorado now, don’t you think, otherwise you’re gonna hear this old man grumble too much, and I can’t have that be your last image of me.”
“Well, actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for some time.”
Crawford reached down beside his chair and pulled a metallic briefcase out from an olive-drab rucksack. “You mean about this,” he said, handing it to Travis, who was staring at the container.
“Don’t look so glum—it’s just the weight of the remaining world in this case, hangin’ on your shoulders. And try to go easy on Katy—she reluctantly revealed to me what was in there and the personal crusade you’ve been on to get it this far.”
“Well, so much for my attempt at operational security,” Travis said.
“You’ve got good people on your team, Travis. She’s someone I’d have fighting on my side any day.”
“What Katy didn’t tell you, and what I’ve just come to find out myself, is that there is a shadow-ops unit in pursuit of this that’s connected somehow with the secretary of biodefense. I met one of their operatives in my recon of the university. She was a para-military type and the one who gave me a couple of new tattoos,” he said, rolling his shoulder slightly and wincing.
“You think she’s got intel on your background?”
“Most definitely. I’m not sure how all these pieces fit together yet but she was the one holding the reins on the bikers. All of the buildup in forces we’ve seen over the last few weeks, their constant patrols in the desert, and the arrival of the Blackhawks are all strands in the same web. Yet another reason why I need to push on.”
“Agreed. Your mission is paramount, like no other. If I had more resources to muster, I’d send them all your way, but we’ve only got the one Blackhawk at our disposal.”
“I’ll trade you then—I’ve got an encrypted laptop. I snagged it from the woman I tangoed with at the university. I’ve tried to crack the code but it’s beyond me. Maybe someone in your group with computer skills can give it a shot.”
“Very well. Get it to me before you go and I’ll hand it off to a few ladies I know who were pretty savvy with such tech in the former world.”
Travis placed the metallic case down beside him, then got up and walked over to the porch, leaning both hands on the railing. “This area is going to be a town I come back to one day with my son so he can meet you and see what a mecca it’s turned into under your leadership.”
“I look forward to that day then, Travis. We’ll sit on this porch and drink a cold one and I can tell your boy a few tales about you—mostly true ones, of course.”
Chapter 23
The next morning, after everyone had rested, they assembled in the main lobby, their gear stacked neatly along the beige stucco walls by the front desk. Travis and Crawford walked into the lobby of the hotel, where Katy and the others were readying their gear and food supplies. Evelyn came up and gave everyone a teary-eyed hug and watched as they began hoisting their packs and grabbing water jugs.
“I’m sure going to miss you guys,” said Evelyn. “Especially that fine cooking of Pete’s. And it’s going to be so quiet without Travis bossing me around.”
The group gathered around her and laughed about times on the river trip, the arduous trek across the desert, and reuniting in Jerome.
“I don’t think you’ve seen the last of us, Ev,” said Katy, who stepped forward and embraced her.
“If I was only twenty years younger, I’d be climbing on the helicopter with you all and making sure you kept out of trouble.”
One by one, the rest of the party stepped up and hugged Evelyn, who was fighting to hold back her tears. Finally, Travis came up and wrapped his arms around her. “A finer friend on the trail, I’ve never known,” he said.
“Oh, that’s not true,” she said, looking at him and then turning towards Katy, who had walked into the other room. “Just remember,” she whispered in his ear, “that being happy doesn’t mean everything in life has to be perfect. I hope that if we meet again, the smiles that are in both of your eyes aren’t hidden from each other anymore.” He grinned and then pulled Evelyn in for a final hug. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then he turned and walked towards the back doors.
Dane was striding down the hall with a large rucksack hanging off his broad shoulders. “If all of you are ready, toss your gear in the helo, and we’ll be off in ten minutes,” he said.
The tall blond man walked up to Crawford and Travis. “Glad you’re coming with us, Dane,” said Travis. “I can’t think of a better combat pilot to take us to the promised land to the north.”
“I’ve heard about all you’ve done for us,” Dane said. “It’s an honor to work with you, Travis. We should be in Bluff, in southeast Utah, in a few hours. From there we will have to look into refueling, if possible, or be hoofing it on foot to Durango.”
“You’ll be in good hands with Dane,” Crawford said. “I’ve also got two more men who have volunteered to go with you. One is a medic and the other used to be a mechanic. I thought they’d be a good fit with their skill sets. The fuel in your helo is all that we have left, and I hope it’s enough to get you to your location and turn this pandemic around.”
“I imagine you’ll know in a few months,” Travis said. “The airwaves should be crackling with news if this mission is successful. Then I’ll be headed home to Denver. If you end up deciphering the password on that laptop I gave you, then you may have your hands full as well.”
“Godspeed to both you and your fine team,” Crawford said. “Now head out before you lose any more daylight.” Travis and Crawford shook hands, neither one wanting to release their grip. Then Travis grabbed his gear as he strode through the antique double doors.
A short time later, with the Blackhawk filled with people and gear, they lifted off. The buzz of the rotors whipped sand around on the crowd of spectators on the porch below as it arced left and headed towards the open desert.
As Travis settled into his seat, he looked over at his crew. Pete was half asleep under his tilted Arizona Diamondbacks baseball cap; Nora and Rachel were velcroed against one another staring over the landscape; Becka was braiding her hair with one boot resting on her tan backpack; Katy was sitting beside him, her hip pressed into his while she squinted frontward, looking through the windshield. Two of Crawford’s men were also on board. One, by the name of Karl, was wearing baggy fatigues and cowboy boots. He was sitting up front in the seat next to Dane. He looked like a ranching type, with heavily calloused hands. Travis didn't recognize the other man sitting against the side cabin door. He went by the name of Rob and wore a black tactical vest and had a neatly trimmed mustache. His reflective sunglasses obscured his eyes.
He was studying the man when he felt Katy’s warm hand slide over his. “Does that mind of yours ever take a break from observing and planning?” she said, interlocking her fingers with his. He let out a deep sigh and squeezed her hand. “The only plans I’m making are the ones that involve you.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Well, I didn’t realize that helicopter flights turned you into such a romantic. We’ll have to zip off in a Blackhawk more often.”
Travis was still exhausted and leaned his back against the padded bench while the Blackhawk continued north across the cobalt sky, towards the sandstone buttes on the horizon.
Chapter 24
Later that morning, while Crawford
was eating breakfast with his sons, he heard the low drone of a helicopter approaching. He stood up and peered through the antique windows on the front of the old hotel. “This can’t be good. They’re back already?” he said, squinting as he made his way out the wooden doors.
The Blackhawk landed in the street out front, swirling leaves and debris around the courtyard where Crawford stood. He lowered his head to avoid the dust and then looked up to see a group of eleven fully equipped combat soldiers hopping out from the sides. He withdrew his pistol as his sons and thirty other ranchers came running out with their rifles leveled at the approaching crew.
A man and a woman dressed in matching assault gear, with their M4s held in a relaxed fashion, came walking up.
The man slowly raised his hands as they approached. “Easy—we’re not here for a fight. My name’s Logan and this is Talia,” he said, extending a gloved hand to Crawford, who kept his hands by his sides. “We’re with what’s left of the federal government, based out of Colorado.”
“So, the government, eh—well, shit, you must be the good guys then,” Crawford smirked. “Can’t say we have any need for your help in these parts though. We’ve managed on our own just fine up to this point.”
Logan looked around at the cowboys lining the porch and surveyed the surrounding rooftops where more armed men had gathered. “I can imagine,” he said. “We picked up satellite feed a few days ago that indicated four Blackhawks had arrived in Flagstaff and then we watched, uncomfortably, while your battle unfolded. Our HQ was crippled by a blizzard, or we would have been here to provide support to you guys.”
“You’ll have to forgive me if we’re not too friendly right now. We’ve come to be a little distrustful of black copters setting down in our backyard, and frankly, me and my people are just damn tired.”
“We saw the carnage in Flagstaff after arriving there the night before last. We also saw another Blackhawk fly in from the west shortly after your departure to retrieve someone from one of the university buildings. We barely tracked your people here, given the poor satellite configurations these days.”
“Is that so? What interest could you possibly have in northern Arizona?” said Crawford.
“Not Arizona—we’re looking for someone. Goes by the name Travis Combs.”
Crawford scratched his scruffy chin. “Name doesn’t ring a bell, but then I’ve got a few hundred people under my watch.”
“In today’s world, this guy would make himself known. Maybe he’s going by another name.”
Crawford glanced over at the heavily armed men standing in formation around the Blackhawk. They resembled a quick-response strike team, the kind he had commanded in younger days but equipped with fancier gear. “Look, we’re all pretty strung out from many days of combat operations against the army in Flagstaff. You and your people are welcome to camp out in town here for a while. In the meantime, why don’t you and I go inside and have a talk.”
Logan turned to Talia, giving her a nod, then motioned to the men by the helicopter to stand down. He followed Crawford into the hotel, while the armed ranchers relaxed their positions.
He walked down the hallway past the front desk, where two women were working intently on a silver laptop that had a familiar logo on the top side. Logan followed Crawford into the dining room and sat down across an oak table from the older man.
“So you flew all the way here from Colorado just for one guy? What’s he done?” said Crawford, shoving a forkful of beans and jerky stew into his mouth.
“He’s a former operative of mine. He would have been traveling with another man named Pearson. Travis was on a river trip when the pandemic struck and may have possibly ended up in these parts.”
Logan looked around the room, habitually taking in the location of the exits and recording numbers of people in the vicinity. “He has vital intel I need—we need—that might help combat the next wave of the virus which is just around the bend, if the predictions are accurate. Travis was with my agency for a while after he left the military.”
Crawford finished eating and then took a swig of water from a green-tinted glass before him. “Well, if there are any red flags raised about such a man, I’ll notify you. We’ve got ham radios in use here, and I’ll get your call sign and info before you leave.”
Logan glanced down at Crawford’s forearm, noting a faded blue military tattoo. “Marine Corps, eh? When were you in?”
“Oh, long before your time. When wars were fought solely by boots on the ground.”
“Looks like we’re back to those kinds of wars once again.”
Crawford got up from his wooden chair. “I’ve got to meet with some of my men right now to go over work orders for the day.”
“Very well. Thanks for your hospitality,” Logan said, extending a hand. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Crawford.”
Logan walked out of the dining room and strode past the porch, rejoining his crew by the Blackhawk. Talia came over and stood next to him as they stared down the dusty main street that wound past the hotel.
“Any word?” she said.
“He knows something. He didn’t even act surprised when I mentioned the coming of the second wave. He’s protecting Travis and probably briefing all his people right now to play dumb on the subject.”
“You want us to recon the area tonight when everyone’s asleep?”
“No, we need to gain their trust and not rouse any further suspicion,” Logan said, removing his sunglasses and wiping some grit from his cheeks. “Pull up anything you can on a former marine by the name of Crawford. I always like to know who I’m sitting across from at the poker table.”
Chapter 25
Travis and company were two hours into the flight, approaching Monument Valley, when Dane leaned back over his seat. “Looks like a sandstorm ahead,” he shouted over the din of the rotors. “I’m gonna have to set her down over by that mesa.” He pointed to the right. “We’ll have to stay put until this passes.”
Travis nodded, then peered out the window beside him. The landscape was composed of reddish-brown sand dappled with clumps of sagebrush amidst a backdrop of endless buttes, rock spires, and mesas. The entire scene was reminiscent of old Western films he had seen growing up. He shifted in his seat and stared out the front window. The terrain to the north, which was comprised of jagged rock escarpments and redrock formations, was being engulfed by an approaching wall of sand that looked to be a mile high, obscuring everything in its path.
“That’s quite a haboob,” said Rob, the man with the reflective sunglasses to Travis’s left.
Travis looked at him, trying to discern his eyes behind the glasses but then studying his facial features. “Sure as hell is. Not many people in the States use that word—you former military?”
“Used to be a combat medic a long time ago. That’s why Crawford wanted me to come along. It was kinda last minute. I replaced another guy who wasn’t feeling up to it from the injuries he sustained in the battle.”
“So, were you a navy corpsman or army medic?”
Before the man could answer, the Blackhawk lurched sideways as a ferocious gust of wind rocked the frame. Dane was wrestling with the steering, trying to correct the helo when another blast struck. Everyone held on to their seats as packs and gear bobbed around on the floor.
“I’ve gotta set her down now!” said Dane, who began an abrupt descent.
The helo swayed as sand and debris began pelting the side. The strained engine billowed in coarse bursts as the fine grit pierced the exhaust vents. The Blackhawk began spiraling as Dane struggled to steer it towards an open area below. Another blast of turbulence sent the helo momentarily into zero gravity as everyone inside gripped their seats. The engine coughed one last time before quitting just as Dane set it down with a thud near an immense series of roughhewn buttes.
For a few seconds after the landing, Dane was still holding on to the controls as if bracing for another ferocious gust. Then he eased
his white-knuckled grip off the collective control stick on his left side and took off his helmet. He leaned back in his seat, taking several deep breaths before speaking. “Well, I want to thank you for flying with the Winslow Express. Tips are appreciated.”
“That’s pretty funny, sky captain,” said Nora, whose face looked frostbitten. She was trying to calm her breathing while still clutching the seat rail. “I can really go without another ride like that in my lifetime.”
Katy leaned forward while letting out a deep exhale. “So what’s the scoop—are we stuck here for a while?”
“Not much I can do when Mother Nature has a hissy fit like this. If anyone has to relieve themselves or get anything from the outer storage compartments, I’d do it now before this really blows in.”
“You mean it’s gonna get worse?” said Becka, who was wide-eyed.
“Ha…ha…ha,” chuckled Dane. “This is actually the calm before the storm. In another twenty minutes, we won’t be able to even see the nose on the front of this helo.”
“I see some large caves over by those rock formations there,” said Rachel, pointing to an outcropping of jagged buttes thirty yards away.
“Why don’t we head over there and wait this thing out,” said Travis. “I’ve been in sandstorms before that have lasted days and, as much as I like you all, this bird ain’t the place to hole up if we’re in for a nasty front moving in.”
“I agree,” said Dane. “I’ve been stuck before like this too, and I would’ve taken a nearby cave any day over being pinned with a bunch of snoring crew members.”
“Alright, grab your packs, the jugs of water, and the med kits and let’s travel in pairs to that huge cave on the right of the formation. We gotta move now,” Travis shouted.
The wind had increased, pelting their faces with fine sand and creating a grayish-brown haze upon the landscape, which blotted out the sun. Trotting up a slickrock incline, they had to drop back down the other side to enter the cave. The rock berm provided some respite from the whipping sand and wind. The entrance resembled a large fish mouth, with bulbous protrusions of sandstone forming the overhang. Once inside, they stared up at the cathedral-like surroundings. It was shaped like an amphitheater and was around a hundred feet wide and deep with a ceiling to match.