Silence greeted the end of her speech. A small child starting crying, stopping when his mother picked him up. I wondered what else they wanted. They looked at me, expecting me to say something.
“We’ve been here all along, in our state, our country. I’m going to go down there and introduce myself, see what they’re up to and let them know that they don’t have a chance. Even if they’re from Siberia, they’re not ready to survive here.”
It wasn’t as impactful as I intended, but it was heartfelt. People in the crowd started murmuring. I couldn’t hear anything specific until Lucas shouted, “And I’m going with you!”
Most of the people snorted and chortled as Madison and Amber started yelling at both of us. Terri pushed me and I almost fell off our soap box.
Ben asked if he could speak, and of course, anyone was welcome. I gave him a hand as he joined me on our impromptu stage.
“My people have lived here for generations. We’ve lived off this land, thrived because of what it has to offer. I was ashamed when we left during the war, ashamed for all of my people. Coming back was the second happiest day of my life.” He nodded to his wife and then continued, “I carried the Raven on my shoulder back to this country. I claim it on behalf of all those who’ve gone before us and all those who will follow. We are Alaskans and there’s no way I’m going to let the Russians drive me from this land again. I’m going with you!” he declared with a shout and a fist pump.
“Ben and I will go, and we’ll talk with them. Terri will go, too, to put to rest your fears that these are the Russian criminals. They are not. These are settlers, not soldiers,” I lied. There was nothing else to say. The fate of the Community was in our hands. If we screwed this up, then we might start a new war.
No pressure at all.
THE SETTLERS
Travel in the winter was so much easier than in the summer. From North Pole to the Fairbanks Airport it was about eight miles straight up the Tanana River. We had to take dog sleds because we weren’t supposed to have any technology. I made sure my cell phone was charged so I could take pictures.
No technology? We’d heard what the Russians brought. At least we’d scavenged our generator and most of what we had, although we did import our engineer. If anyone had watched us build our improved outhouse, both versions one and two, they probably would have laughed themselves into a fit. We were far from the well-oiled machine I expected to see in the Russian camp.
We mushed our two dog teams up the river and through a hole in the airport’s perimeter fence. We continued across the runways and taxiways straight to the hangar the Russians were using. It was obvious as they had armed guards. I slowed the dog team I was driving. I hadn’t anticipated that they would be carrying weapons. When it was apparent we’d been spotted, one of the two ran inside the hangar. An older gentleman came outside and waved to us, beckoning.
Once we arrived, I was glad we weren’t them. In the hangar they’d chosen, forty cots were arranged in neat rows. Temperatures inside were the same as outside. That meant it was a balmy ten degrees below zero Fahrenheit. This is where they lived.
On the far side within the hangar, their convoy was parked in rows, supplies clearly sorted and stacked. I heard a generator, but couldn’t see where it was. They weren’t using it for heat.
I wondered where they hid their outhouse. I wasn’t a fan of dropping trousers when it was below freezing, let alone below zero. I thought about all of this as we approached. I had my .45 in my shoulder holster as usual. Ben’s shotgun rode in the sled as Ben drove the team. I hadn’t known that he was an accomplished dog musher, but I wasn’t surprised. Ben was a true Alaskan.
The older gentleman plowed through the snow to meet us. As he approached he stopped to pet each dog. The dogs seemed to like him. I knew that I should be wary, but anyone who greets dogs before people is probably the right kind of person. I wanted to hate him but couldn’t. He hadn’t even said his name yet and I was all smiles.
Ben lightened as well, seeing the Russian treat the dogs with kindness.
“Dobro pozhalovat’,” the man said in Russian. “Welcome.”
“Dobriy den’. Menya zavut Chuck, i vot Terri, i Ben,” I pointed to each as I introduced them.
“Ah, you speak Russian, my friend. Very nice. I am Sergei Sergeevich Kashirin. What brings you to our home, and where did you come from?” He switched to English quicker than I expected.
“We have a thriving Community just up the river. I’m sure you’ve seen our smoke on clear days.”
“Yes, we wondered. We do not yet have such fine animals as these, so we are forced to spend more time here than getting to know our neighbors. We have snowshoes, yes, but they are not quite the same as a good dog team.” I nodded and removed my glove. He looked at it then did the same. His hand felt warm compared to mine. Maybe he had better gloves than I had. His grip was strong.
I was certain he was military or had been until recently.
“Vashi voiska…” I started to say. “Your forces…” He stopped me with a raised hand.
“Not troops, no. We are pilgrims. This is the right word, is it not? We are here to find a new home. We’ve left Russia behind to seek a new way of life.” He smiled as he talked. He was starting to sound like a politician. This helped nurture my dislike for what he stood for.
That was easy, but the man was still pleasant. The armed guards had moved off, never pointing their weapons at us.
“Why do you have armed guards?” I asked, hoping to put the matter to rest.
“Bears. On the way here we encountered more than one. If a bear got into our camp or into our food, we would have a hard time. We barely have enough to get us through this winter. I expect we’ll all lose some weight by spring.”
“I doubt you’ll see any bears in this area, but that’s just me. We never used to post guards, but maybe we’ll start.” My threat wasn’t so subtle. Ben bristled and Terri tried to look farther into the hangar to see more of the men’s faces.
“Maybe it’s time for us to retire our guards. You are right. We have seen no bears or bear tracks in this area. Although there used to be plenty of moose,” he grinned. Moose meat for all. There was no finer cut in all Alaska. I liked how he countered my statement. If it was his intention to win me over with kindness, he was doing a great job at it.
Sergei turned and motioned for us to follow. We went through the hangar and into an area that was enclosed in the back. It was heated and the rest of his people were in there. Terri looked deliberately from face to face. When she finished, we made eye contact and she shook her head slightly to let me know that she didn’t recognize any of the people.
That was a huge relief. I didn’t want to call someone out, but the thought of what the others had done made me angry. I took a deep breath and nodded a greeting to each of the Russian faces. It looked like a perfect split between men and women. Leave it to the Russians to issue women with husbands or vice versa. I doubt any of them had a choice besides saying “yes” that they would go.
How they partnered after that was irrelevant. I didn’t see anyone that looked pregnant, not that I was judging, but wouldn’t the UN have to consider all the children we had with us and an established school in which to teach them?
Sergei stepped aside and looked at me as if I was there to talk to them about how they could get cheaper car insurance. I would try not to disappoint him. I worked my way to an open space in the middle of the room.
“Dobro pozhalovat’ v Fairbanks!” I held up my hands and turned in a circle so I could see them all. Some nodded, no one spoke. It was going to be a tough crowd. “Welcome to Fairbanks. We haven’t seen the coldest weather yet, but if you’ve lived in Siberia, you understand. If not, you’ll learn. Come February, it’ll start to warm up, and by March, it will be pleasant in comparison.
“I hope you are all enjoying the northern light
s! We’ve been having some great shows this winter. The sky isn’t spoiled by pollution, not any longer anyway. We wish you all the best for the remainder of this winter and, come spring, maybe we can have a barbecue where you can meet the rest of us and we can get to know each other a little better. Thank you.” I looked for a place to sit but there weren’t any free chairs.
Ben and Terri both looked unhappy. I worked my way back toward the flap leading to the unheated part of the hangar. “Sergei, thanks for your hospitality. We just wanted to check on you and see how you were doing. The weather can be harsh. We’ll be on our way, if you don’t mind,” I said, not waiting for an answer as the others went ahead. Sergei stayed with me, giving me no opportunity to take a picture of their equipment. I wasn’t going to push it. There’d be opportunities later.
I wasn’t a fan of tearing the other guy down to prove that I was the better person. The cots showed a military mentality, not a settler one. Settlers would find a way to be more comfortable, make it more like a home than a barracks.
We returned to our sleds and teams. The guards were there, playing with our dogs. Their weapons had disappeared sometime during our absence. Ben looked alarmed until he saw his trusty old shotgun right where he’d left it.
The dogs seemed happy. Maybe the Russians were lonely. Forty of them thrown together without a worthwhile diversion. Which made me ask the question, “Sergei, what do you guys do for fun?”
“That is a good question, my friend, a very good question indeed.” He nodded as if I was supposed to understand everything from his ambiguous statement. I had to admit that it was a very Russian answer. I nodded back knowingly, having no idea what he meant.
We loaded up, lifted our snow hooks and mushed the dogs around in a wide circle to head back home. I hoped the Russians didn’t come for a surprise visit like we’d just done to them. Our people would probably be less welcoming.
AN EARLY SPRING
The melt started in early March with an unseasonably warm streak. Our six feet of snow dwindled to three in a week, which left lakes everywhere we went. The poor dogs were miserable as the kennel was almost completely underwater. Areas in the direct sunlight melted even faster.
We realized we were going to have problems when the Tanana River ice buckled, letting the flowing water break through and run over the top of the ice. It streamed down river, running up on the river banks, melting snow piles which added to the quantity of water heading downstream. The ice jumped and churned.
It was too early for break up, but the entire Tanana River was a mess. We wondered if the Chena River on the other side of the city was in the same shape. We stayed mostly inside. There was too much water and too much mud. The gym was warm enough for the children to play, which they did, to everyone’s delight. They were finally tired out after a long winter trapped in a too-small space.
I couldn’t wait for it to dry out.
This was the in-between period where there wasn’t enough snow to ride the snow machine, and it wasn’t clear enough to take the quad. I felt trapped.
So I put on my rubber boots and went walking. I took Phyllis and Husky with me. Neither of them cared about the water. We could dry them off when we returned. There were plenty of towels. They splashed and swam as we hiked to the highway. It wasn’t far, maybe a quarter-mile, but it took us a while because the dogs were easily distracted. I gave up trying to herd them in the direction of the road and simply walked. It was nice to stretch my legs.
One of my boots leaked and I didn’t care, although the water was just above freezing. I’d have to go back soon. I could tell the dogs were cold as well. It was warm out for March, but far too cold to be walking around wet. We climbed the on-ramp and walked back to the bridge over the road.
I looked in the direction of the airport and saw what looked like smoke, black smoke billowing into the bright morning sky. It was too wet for anything to casually burn. The fire causing those flames could not have been intentionally set.
The Russians were in trouble.
DESTRUCTION!
“Hey! Hey!” I yelled as I ran back into the school with two soaked dogs running past me. “The Russian camp is on fire!” I kept running around the school looking at people. The survivors from Healy shrugged as I passed. I understood why, and if I were them, I’d feel the same way. We rallied everyone from the Community of Chena Hot Springs. Terri joined us and just a few of the women who had been close by.
“I saw the smoke. Something is wrong and I bet they need help. We have to go, see what we can do and we need to go now,” I said quickly, looking for agreement. Head nods, but no one spoke out loud, not even Chris. Then Terri leaned in.
“Why?” was all she asked.
“Because they are human beings and there aren’t too many of us around here. I could have said the same thing when somebody shot out the front window of the truck when we tried to talk with you. How many of your people would be dead now if you hadn’t come along?”
Terri clenched her jaw and closed her eyes as she struggled within herself. Then she opened her eyes and nodded tersely. She looked back and said, “You three, come with us. The rest of you, take care of the kids.”
“Trucks out front in five!” Chris yelled beside my ear. There was a moment where everyone stood, then the scrambling began. Ten minutes later, two trucks with the fifth wheel behind pulled into the standing water, fording toward the highway.
We had to drive the long way around. Eight miles as the raven flew or forty miles skirting the destruction in the city. The roads were clear enough to maintain a steady speed, but snowdrifts and other obstacles slowed us down. It took us over an hour before we arrived at the airport. The Russians had left a gate open so we drove through.
The hangar roof was collapsed and smoke continued rolling from within the wreckage. People were lying out front, others trying to help them. We pulled up and parked. Colleen was first out and looked at the injuries as she walked between the rows of people. She looked at her surroundings, then started setting up for triage. She determined the fifth wheel was for the patients in the worst condition.
The walking wounded moved to one side as Colleen issued a stream of commands. Heavy burn victims right here. Others there. Bring the medical kit from the truck. Put this over there. Put pressure on this. Clean the debris from the wound.
Everyone did as they were told. Madison walked with Colleen and translated the commands into Russian for those who couldn’t understand English.
Ben and I found Sergei among the walking wounded. He was trying to rally his people, but was having no success. When he tried to speak, he broke into a racking cough.
“Just breathe, my friend. Is this all your people?” He shook his head.
“Are the others inside?” He nodded vigorously and started to cough again. “Ben, put us together an entry team. I think we’ll be going in – we need tools…” He was off before I could finish.
“Any alive inside?” He nodded.
“Where?” I asked. He tried to speak and coughed, choked and almost fell over. I held him upright as he wheezed and let me support him. “Are they in the back, where you had the heater?” He shook his head.
“By your convoy, your trucks?” He nodded.
“Any up front?” He shrugged. He didn’t know. I helped him to the ground and let him lie down. We had an oxygen tank with us, but there were too many suffering from smoke inhalation.
Ben returned with Lucas, Shane, Tanya, Terri, and Jo. I waved at them to follow and we jogged to the front of the hangar. Once there, we needed a plan so we stood in a circle as I talked them through it.
“Shane, we need you to see if it’s sound enough for us to enter and then where the safest entry will be. We are heading for the area of the convoy, located rear center. It looks to be next to the worst of the roof collapse. Sergei said there wasn’t anyone alive in the back. We�
�ll take his word on that. I expect that’s where the fire started. He didn’t know if anyone was up front. If we can do it safely, look through the cots. See if anyone is still there. Only the living. If we find someone dead, we leave them and move on. Pull their coat or something over their face to let others know that they’ve been checked. Everyone ready? Shane, you’ve got point.”
He looked at me. He’d never served or even watched war movies it seemed. “You lead. Find us the safest way in,” I corrected.
The hangar doors had fallen askew and he shook his head as he walked past those and jogged around the side. There was a door that he opened, and he looked inside. There was some smoke, but the fire was on the opposite side of the building. We put our faces inside our coats, under our shirts to filter the air somewhat, but oxygen would be lacking. I stopped everyone.
“If the smoke gets too bad, we leave. No one dies! Tanya and Shane, stay together and watch each other. Terri and Ben, together. Lucas, Jo, and I are the last team. No exceptions!” I nodded to Shane and he led us in.
We went through a side room that had been set up as an office of some sort. The exit door led into a hallway that dumped into the hangar. Once inside the hangar itself, we could see why so many were injured. It was chaos and destruction. I waved Terri and Ben toward the sleeping area to check for survivors.
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