Arks of America

by D A Carey

  His first call after coming to that conclusion was to Uncle Dave to ask him to arrange the helicopter to French Lick. From there, he would pick up ground transportation. He didn’t want to take the extra security men because he wasn’t sure the trip was needed, and he didn’t want other people risking their lives on his personal mission.

  “It’s better to be safe than sorry. Take the extra men,” Uncle Dave reasoned. “This could serve as a perfect training exercise in the event we need to rescue someone else.”

  As a former Special Forces soldier, Vince knew well the value of training.

  Dave told him they might have additional passengers coming along, sharing information on the plight of Liz Pendleton and her group in downtown Chicago. He wasn’t sure if they needed out for sure, when, or how they would do it. He told Vince he would get him more information when he knew the details.

  Vince didn’t want to be distracted with some high maintenance Hollywood starlet and her friends. This trip was solely to rescue his girls. Still, he owed much of the tools, equipment, and options to help his girls to his uncle. Vince loved and respected Dave, and if he wanted Vince to bring a passenger or two back with them, he would.

  They arranged for two security men to go with him. He thought he might need at least three vehicles to get all the passengers home if it went that far. Because he didn’t want to take that many men along, he settled on two vehicles.

  << Dave >>

  Louis was tasked with the full-time job today of contacting people who needed to make it to the Colorado location. It was like a military operation calling everyone back to base. No matter how busy he was with this work, his mind kept going back to Liz Pendleton. That girl had spunk. He couldn’t help but like her. She was trapped in downtown Chicago, and they were all worried about her. Thankfully, she had her own security team.

  When Vince called Dave, concerned about Ellie and Kate, Louis had been in the room and heard the angst in his voice. Dave told Louis later how he was able to make plans to get them a way to communicate, and he planned to use the same method for Liz. He asked Louis to keep calling and texting Liz’s cell phone. So far, it was to no avail.

  Dave gave instructions to the men in Chicago to accelerate the plan to pilot the drone with a SAT phone strapped underneath to her location. It had the range, but they had never flown it that high. Liz was on the fifty-second floor of the Waldorf Astoria in a penthouse condo. If she was still there, and if they could get the drone to her, they should be able to land it on the patio of the high-rise building with a note saying who it was from.

  Dave knew the men were in a rush to get out of Chicago themselves. It was a testament to their loyalty that they offered to stay and do this.

  If Vince was going in to Chicago and things were as bad as they were hearing, then those ladies needed a way to call out and help direct their rescue.

  << Liz >>

  It was nearing the end of the second week locked in the hotel. The power was now out almost all the time. The gothic-style penthouse condo at the top of the hotel had huge balconies and plenty of light coming in from the skylights as well. They were able to warm up food in the fireplace as well as cook over the fire pit on the balcony.

  The place was so crowded that Liz and Carol were sharing her room. Frank and Junior were in another room next door. Junior was still weak and sore from two knife wounds yet was determined to pull his own weight. It didn’t help that Frank teased him about being slow to dodge and easy to cut. Frank was ex-Army and Junior a former Marine, and most of the banter centered on that fact. Although Liz didn’t get it, she was happy to see the men in good spirits despite all they went through downstairs.

  Steve Denver was the male lead on the miniseries with Liz. He and his security guard and a couple of other men that worked on the show moved from their rooms and were camping out in the main room of the Penthouse on couches. Steve was older than Liz and full of himself. He’d made a few halfhearted attempts to share her room. She would have been repulsed if his attempts hadn’t been so weak and humorous. She felt sorry for him at first, then he decided he should take charge and organize the group and their defenses. Liz made sure Steve knew he was a guest and his input would not be needed. She hated to emasculate him like that in front of the others, but she couldn’t have the group divided right now. To his credit, Steve did stay quiet after that even though he may have been a bit sullen. That was preferable to meddling and flirting.

  Frank once again made the long trek down the stairs to scavenge for food. He reported back that very few of the staff had showed up for work and much of the food had already been looted. All that remained were things like rice and peanut butter, which ironically was exactly what they needed. He was able to bring those back as well as some tuna, salami, and a few other odds and ends he found ignored in a back corner of the food storage area. He hid what he couldn’t carry to be retrieved later. While they weren’t eating like kings, they weren’t starving either. Those foods had a long shelf life and a lot of the nutrients a body needed. They were also portable if they needed to leave the hotel.

  Frank’s comment about possibly leaving worried Liz. She’d had the same thought herself but had been afraid to voice it. After Frank spoke the words, it had to be considered.

  He reported seeing a few people from the staff blockading doors. One of them told Frank a police squad car would roll by once a day or so. As soon as the police were gone, the thugs would come back. The police were using the hotel as more of a place to stop and rest up than to establish order. It was good news that the police were still fighting; it was bad news that they appeared to be losing. Everyone in the city was so weary.

  “I suspect the only reason these last hotel employees are protecting the place or holding the door is because a few of them have brought their own families here and hidden them a few floors up in rooms,” Frank postulated. “The police I did see remind me of a teacher trying to keep order in one of those crowded inner city schools. They were going through the motions because they were expected to, but the air of defeat was evident in their eyes and body language. How long before they quit trying altogether?”

  Outside on the streets, it was much worse. Liz and her team began to discuss what to do if things didn’t come back to order soon. The food was running low and would soon run out. Eventually a gang of thugs would come up here seeking valuables. Or when food or water ran out, hunger would force their group out into the street. Neither option was good. As a group, they decided to stay put for the time being. No one truly wanted to venture out at this time anyway.

  Liz had a sinking feeling they were living on borrowed time and had only delayed making a hard decision. For now, it was easier to sit tight and hope for rescue. There was enough food for now as long as they rationed it. Many of them still believed order would be restored soon. In a worst case scenario, perhaps the gangs and looters would lose some of their steam and move on, or even kill enough of each other off to make things safer. Liz spent a great deal of time contemplating possible courses of action. She liked to sit on the balcony close to the fire pit. They were feeding it from pieces of furniture salvaged from rooms below. Liz grew accustomed to the sounds below, ranging from long periods of eerie silence to gunshots, screams, and sirens.

  It was another sound that shook her mind from her melancholy mood and put her senses on alert. A faint buzz. Searching for the source of the sound, she saw what appeared to be a bird headed directly for her balcony. It didn’t take Liz long to discern that it wasn’t a bird, it was manmade. She ran to the glass.

  “Frank!” she cried.

  Frank came out, gun drawn, ready for combat right as the drone landed. He waited a moment and then approached the drone cautiously. He pulled a heavily taped note off the drone and used his knife to slit it open from the bottom. He held the note and envelope to the light and peered inside, examined the note more closely, and read it briefly. He turned to Liz and deadpanned, “It’s for you.”

 
; While she was reading the note, Frank asked, “Do you know Dave Cavanaugh?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “There’s a phone in a container strapped to the underside of the drone.” Frank handed it to Liz.

  As soon as she powered it up, the phone rang. Liz was so startled she almost dropped it. It was Dave on the other end with his lovely western cultured voice.

  “How is Chicago this time of year?” Liz could only laugh in reply.

  Her laughter and tears of relief changed the mood of the group immediately. While they weren’t saved, they did finally have contact with the outside world.

  When she got control of herself, Liz filled Dave in on the conditions in Chicago.

  Dave apologetically informed her, “I can’t get air transport in to get you and your team out. However, if things don’t improve soon I do have some other plans in the works.”

  “What do you mean?” Liz asked.

  “I can’t go into too much detail right now other than to let you know that I have some plans to get a team into the city via land. There is another family a few miles away that may need help getting out of the city as well. I need you and your team to think about a plan to make it a few miles away to an extraction point. I will try to get a team to the hotel. If that can’t be done, can your group make it a few miles? If we can pull it off and send a team in, you need to be ready to go with either plan at a moment’s notice.”

  “Thank you. We’ll discuss the options and make plans,” Liz said. “I will keep in touch hourly. I’d rather have you and your people provide direction and advice.”

  Dave sighed on the other end of the phone. “The SAT phone signal isn’t reliable. We need to minimize contact and be prepared to be very concise on calls. You should assume each time we speak that we will not be able to connect again.”

  “Why?” Liz asked, confused.

  “The SAT phone system is either having technical issues or being purposefully sabotaged. Sometimes it takes hours or days to get a call through. Liz, you should know that strong, resilient people survive chaotic situations at a much higher rate than weaker people. If you expect little or no help, you will be stronger and more likely to survive this. If I direct a plan and it suddenly becomes untenable, it could be worse for you if you expect to be saved. You’re a survivor, and you have good people with you.”

  When Liz remained silent, and Dave worried she was afraid, he said in his most fatherly voice, “Liz, don’t think that doesn’t mean I won’t move Heaven and Earth to try and help you any way I can. I’m here for you. Twenty minutes ago, you didn’t expect to be talking to me now, so things are already looking up. Stay positive. You’re a natural leader, whether you know it or not. If you want those people to survive and feel more powerful than they are, make them feel positive, empowered, and optimistic. I know you can do it.”

  Friends

  “Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers, but to be fearless in facing them. Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but for the heart to conquer it.”

  - Rabindranath Tagore

  << Vince >>

  The helicopter touched down in a field near French Lick, Indiana. Vince was accompanied by Andy and Dwight, two Special Forces operators. They had been assigned to the Carrollton location after getting some cursory training in Colorado. Vince would have preferred to work alone. He didn’t want to be responsible for them. However, the practical part of his mind knew he needed them. If he was going to bring a handful of people out of Chicago, through a couple of hundred miles of highway and small towns, their experience and firepower would be a welcome addition.

  Andy was a big, blond-haired man who had been a Ranger in both Iraq and Afghanistan. It helped the team comradery that Andy was happy and good natured. That was always preferable in a tight-knit team because it helped people relax and increased camaraderie.

  Dwight was harder to figure out. He shared enough of his Special Forces background that confirmed he was imminently qualified. He also spent a good deal of time with a Blackwater-type private contracting firm after he left active duty. That stint was a double-edged sword for Vince. Although they hired and trained the best, it worried him that some of the men didn’t take as much of a moral high ground as Vince and his uncle mandated. Dwight admitted there was a lot he wanted to leave behind, and he wanted to get back close to home in Indiana. Vince chose to take him at this word the same as his uncle had done. Dwight was tall and dark haired, broad of shoulder and lean at the waist. He moved silently, with a spooky economy of motion that could sneak right up on you.

  When they stepped off the helicopter at French Lick, they were near a massive country junkyard with a few metal pole barns scattered around, which presumably acted as shops for the work or as storage. From the outside looking in, it was a mess of rust and destruction holding nothing of value. A grizzled older man came out of one of the barns with a shotgun in one hand and a yellow Motorola walkie talkie clipped on the breast pocket of his Carhartt jacket. Gus and Vince had talked before the flight, so Gus knew he was coming and why; he was just being cantankerous and cautious. Vince stepped forward with his hands palms out and identified himself. Although they’d spoken, Gus hadn’t yet met him face to face. Still a bit wary, Gus asked how Dave and his wife were doing.

  “Dave has been a widow for most of his adult life. He lost his wife Tess to a drunk driver back in the seventies,” Vince answered.

  This mollified Gus. He lowered his shotgun and spoke into the walkie. “Everything seems all right here. Although to be on the safe side, sit tight, stay ready, and watch the perimeter.”

  Gus led them into a modest brick home at the edge of the junkyard and offered them drinks. When they were seated at the kitchen table, Vince talked more at length about what he needed. He hadn’t said as much as he would have liked on the phone earlier.

  “I have the things you need,” Gus told him. “I owe Dave a lot. I’m still not one hundred percent sure why I should trust you yet, though.”

  Vince tried hard to hide his impatience. He was in a hurry to get to Chicago. He dialed Dave’s private SAT phone number and handed the phone to Gus. He could hear Gus’s half of the conversation as he paced the room. Dave was inviting Gus and his family to move to Chartertown Kentucky, at least temporarily.

  “Thank you for the offer,” Gus said into the phone. “For now, we’re fine, and I have plans to make this place much safer than your little town in Kentucky. You and your family have a safe shelter here whenever you needed it.”

  They both chuckled, and Vince got a better idea of the cantankerous old man and how he operated. Some people just had a different way about them. When Gus hung up with Dave, Vince handed him a solar charger for the SAT phone and told him to keep it close.

  The place didn’t appear worth much and definitely wasn’t worth attacking or defending from Vince’s viewpoint. Later, when Gus took him on a short tour, he could see it was a labyrinth of junk. Amongst the maze of cars Gus had stored food, garden plots, and fallback positions. Although it piqued Vince’s curiosity, he was anxious to get on his way. Vince and Gus agreed they could do some trading down the road. Chartertown Carrollton and Gus each had things the other would need.

  Gus led them to another pole barn to a pair of 4X4s he just finished modifying for the trip to Chicago, then spoke into the walkie talkie to his sons, telling them to come on out and meet some friends.

  << Ellie >>

  As much as she hated to admit it, she needed Vince. It would have been easy to swallow her pride if it was only her and Kate. This would be hard on Malcolm; he was a proud man, and Chicago was his hometown. They lived only a few blocks from the auto repair shop his dad ran for forty-five years and only a few miles from the company where Malcolm was an HR director.

  Ellie was proud of Malcolm. He had created a safe zone in the middle of the chaos of Chicago for the time being. It couldn’t hold if things didn’t get better soon. Each day she prayed to see the police or the National
Guard show up announcing the nightmare was over. Food and water were running lower and the gangs and looters were running out of lower-hanging fruit to prey on. They would soon turn their attention to more protected targets like their block.

  It was concerning that before they put up the roadblock even people Malcolm had known for years were acting strangely. They would visit to make small talk when they hadn’t before, looking past him or over his shoulder. Malcolm couldn’t decide if he was being paranoid or if they were trying to determine how well stocked up they were. He suggested to his neighbors that they board up all the doors and windows on the backs of their houses and to barricade the narrow access lanes between the homes. He insisted they keep the roadblocks on each end of the street manned twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

  So far, Malcolm’s plans were working. The people on the block took comfort in a level of refuge many places in the city didn’t have. Confidence and hope were slowly creeping back in. Some of the people were even discussing a community garden and homeschooling sessions for the children if the situation lasted much longer.

  Ellie was worried that the looters were only going after other targets for now in deference to Malcolm’s defenses. When the gangs got hungrier for food and power, these defenses wouldn’t be enough. The previous night one of the more violent local gangs came to the roadblock demanding access, saying the street was city property. Had Malcolm been at the roadblock, he could have avoided the ensuing bloodshed. Once they showed weakness or gave in, the demands would not stop. The leader was a local hoodlum and drug dealer named Raheem Jackson. Raheem was as bad of a thug as any of them. Malcolm knew him since he’d been a kid and had swept up around the shop and done odd jobs when Malcolm’s father was still alive.