by Liscom, Sean
“Do you remember the first time you came to the ranch and you and I sort of butted heads about where you sat at the table?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“You're a Sterling. You have a place to fill in the fabric of our little community. It doesn't matter if you were here from day one or if you came late to the party. You AND your family all have places here, no questions asked.....”
“Begging your pardon, Jill. We're not royalty and to be honest, we feel like we're not entitled to anything here. You, all of you, fought and bled for this, not us,” Braden interrupted.
“You're right, Braden. NONE of us are royalty and even though you were late getting here, you fought your own battles to make it happen. That, in and of itself, has earned you a seat at the table. You paid for that chair you're sitting in with your own blood, your
own triumphs and your own losses. You have the scars to show that you paid your dues. ALL of you do,” she said looking over her shoulder at Megan.
I picked it up from there when he gave Jill the “If you say so” look. “Braden, Megan, everyone here has accepted you. There is not one person that thinks you don't deserve to be here. You don't have to worry about stepping on any toes because if someone thinks that you're wrong or out of line about something, they’ll tell you to your face. No one here is either shy or thin skinned. Don't worry about it big brother.”
“Alright,” he finally answered after a few moments of silence. Dire to change the subject, I pointed to the journal that he had been reading.
“Is that the last one?” I asked.
“It is, thank God.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Didn't you notice it? You get about halfway through the set and it's like reading a technical manual for a refrigerator. It's dry and boring. The first couple of dozen or so weren't bad. I really learned a lot about dad, but the last few, hard to read.”
“Yeah, I got that too,” I chuckled.
“Don't get me wrong, if you want to know everything there is about how the ranch was built and who built it, it's a wealth of information. It's also better than Nyquil for knocking your ass out and putting you to sleep,” he laughed.
It was about that time that Megan announced that breakfast was ready. Instead of putting everything
on the table, she served it buffet style in the kitchen. Once our plates were loaded and coffee mugs filled again, we enjoyed the normal small talk of a family at the breakfast table. It was as if the world had never come crashing down. It was the normalcy that we all craved and fought for. This is exactly why we did the things we did, normalcy in an abnormal world.
After breakfast, Braden and I said goodbye to our wives and headed to the security shack. I could tell that there was a nervous energy building inside him. He'd been in the security shack a million times since he'd been here. He and I would have our morning coffee here, but this was the first time that he would be there in an official capacity.
We reached the front door and I put my hand on the doorknob but didn't turn it. Instead I looked my brother straight in the eye. He tried a small smile but it faded as quickly as it appeared.
“Nothin to it, bro. You got this,” I reassured him. He just nodded and took a deep breath. I gave it another couple of seconds before I twisted the handle and opened the door. I led the way inside and we were immediately greeted by the young Alex Perez.
“Good morning, Jason,” he said as I entered. As soon as Braden followed me in, I could see he look of surprise on his face. “Good morning, Braden.”
“Good morning, Alex,” Braden and I said in unison.
After I got my coffee, Braden and I sat in the chairs across from the desk and Alex gave us the “Pass-
down” from the night shift. Braden listened intently even though there really wasn't a lot of information. We learned that the coyotes had been seen again outside of the eastern wall chasing rabbits. The HAM radios had been quiet all night and there had also been an exceptionally bright shooting star at 1:15am. Other than that, there just wasn't anything else to report. He asked a few questions that Alex was more than happy to answer for him.
After Alex left, I had Braden take a seat behind the desk. Much as Jill had done with me on my first day. I began to show him how to operate the various systems. It was actually a little easier than when I went through it. We had lost all but six of our cameras in the
attack on the ranch and when the original shack had been destroyed, all of our high definition TV screens had been destroyed with it.
Now we were only using the one TV remaining, the one from the lounge in the underground. The fancy computer system had been replaced by a laptop and all of the radio equipment had been scrounged up by Major Jackson. We were fully operational, just not as high tech as we had been before. One of the few actual upgrades that we were able to make was an intercom system that was available in every building at the ranch, even the underground. It had proven very helpful.
One area that really caught Braden’s attention was the radio set-up. He was fascinated with the fact that we had talked to people all over the world. I
showed him the log book that had all of our contacts in it. Every communication was logged with a brief description of the conversation and who we spoke to. He seemed genuinely happy when I told him that we made most of our contacts at night. He was going to be on the graveyard shift so the radios would be his primary responsibility.
We spent the rest of the morning walking the grounds and getting him familiar with all of the guard posts and what their areas of coverage included. By the time lunch rolled around, he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. It was a lot of information to take in and I didn't expect him to get it all in one day. It took me weeks before I had the routine down.
The staff meeting was always held in the conference room in the basement of one of the barracks buildings. Everyone started showing up around 11:45a.m., today was no different. Megan usually provided sandwiches and several pitchers of ice water. There were several notepads scattered around the table, but the attendants normally brought their own.
Braden and I were the first ones in the room and we were quickly joined by Jill and her brother Dale. Right behind them came Dan Hawkins, Jeff Owens, Jake Fields, Doc Williams and his daughter, Samantha. Everyone took their seats and we began the meeting with Dan.
“Good afternoon, everyone. The only Item that I have for today involves the trainees that we currently
have here at the ranch. I and the other instructors have talked it over and we are really eyeing Melissa Lange for the position here after she graduates. She has excelled at everything that has been thrown at her. She has fallen short a couple of times but she always rebounds and finishes the task. She's young but she's got spirit,” he said. Jeff, Jake and Jill all nodded in agreement.
“Well, if she's the one you want, I'll make the offer after graduation. I'm not holding out hope though. We've been turned down every time we've made an offer,” I replied.
“She's the one,” Jill said. “If she turns us down, that's fine. It's her choice.”
I nodded and made a note in my notebook. “Doc, Sam, what have you got?” I asked looking across the table at the father-daughter medical team.
“From a veterinary standpoint, I couldn't be happier,” the senior Doc Williams began. “The cattle herd is growing faster than I anticipated. If you'll remember, when this whole thing started, we had 100 head. That number has grown to 165 as of yesterday and we still have 14 pregnant heifers. As long as our consumption stays the way it is, I don't see that number doing anything but continuing to grow.”
“That's really good news, Doc,” I said.
“Yes, it is. As far as the hogs and chickens go, they too are swelling in numbers. So much so that I anticipate needing at least one new pen and one new coop before winter hits. You might want to put that on
your to-do list, Dale. A new horse paddock is probably going to be on the horizon too. We h
ave four pregnant mares and when they give birth, that will bring our total to 32. Having that many horses doubled up in the existing paddocks makes it a pain in the ass for whoever is doing the cleaning,” Doc finished. Dale, our resident farmer and animal caretaker, was writing on his pad. I gave Doc the thumbs up and looked to his daughter.
“Sam?”
“Nothing new from me. Same message as always, stay hydrated, keep clean and don't hesitate to see me for anything,” she replied.
“Alright. Jake, Jeff, what's on your minds today?”
“I.....” Jeff started but was interrupted by a knock at the door. It opened and Major Dennis Jackson poked his head in.
“Sorry to barge in but I have some news that I thought you guys might like to hear,” he said as he came all the way in and closed the door.
“You're always welcome to join us, Major. What's going on?” I asked.
“Yesterday, I got a call from the little town of Duckwater, It's about 160 miles south of here. They called to tell me that one of our teams had stopped in,” he paused. “We don't have anybody south of I-80 right now so naturally, he got my attention. The guy in charge, Max, said that it didn't seem quite right. The uniforms were right, the vehicles were right but their attitude was a little off. He said that they asked a lot of
questions, like they were casing the place,” Dennis reported.
“I assume you sent someone to check it out,” Dan said.
“Of course. Squads 1-1 and 1-3 from Team 1 are headed there now. They were the closest but it's still going to be late tonight before they get there. I told Max to call right away if they needed anything before they arrived. We might have to pull class 3 into active duty, everybody and I do mean everybody is too far out of pocket to respond if the need comes up,” he said looking at Jill. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms on her chest.
“They're only halfway through their training, Dennis. They are NOT ready for field operations yet,” she said sternly.
“I know that, Jill. If push comes to shove though, they are the closest backup with ANY training at all. I don't like it, but that option IS on the table. Squads 1-2 and 1-4 were on their way to Twin Falls Idaho, I've recalled them and they are heading south as fast as they can,” his eyes were locked with hers and neither showed any signs of relenting.
“Jill, Dennis. If it comes to that, we can have some of Mayor Calvert’s men come babysit the ranch and we, the instructors, can take the class on a field trip. Is that acceptable?” Dan asked.
“Fine,” Jill said.
“That'll work,” Dennis replied.
“Good. Shall we finish our meeting?” I said to no
one in particular.
“There is one more item, Jason. This is actually good news. There are two fuel trucks leaving Salt Lake tonight. One is diesel, the other is regular gasoline. Both of them are headed here,” Dennis said. That news was met with nods of approval from around the table. We had been burning a lot of fuel and we were down to about 20% of our capacity. This was good news to be sure.
“Has all of the fuel been checked for water and contaminates?” I asked.
“It's fresh fuel. This wasn't pulled from underground tanks or a storage facility,” Dennis answered.
“Where the hell did they get fresh fuel from?” Dan asked before I could.
“I don't know the details but Texas has gotten one of the refineries up and running.”
“No shit?” I said.
“Yep. I guess they started turning out usable fuel two weeks ago and we're getting two tankers full in the next couple of days.”
“Well, I guess the only thing left to say is, thank you!” I replied.
CHAPTER 2
Saturday, July 29th, 2017
The news that Major Jackson had brought to our staff meeting had turned up nothing. He was still getting reports from various towns in the southern half of the state regarding a group that looked like us but he could never track them down. Every time he tried to investigate a sighting, they would vanish into thin air. At one point, he was 20 minutes away from the town they had been spotted in and by the time he got there, they were gone.
The townspeople pointed him in the direction they had gone, a very long, open stretch of road that led south from Beatty, Nevada. There was literally nowhere for them to hide, yet 20 or so men and women along with eight military vehicles, had disappeared. He had spent a week in the desert along with his men and Team 1 looking for these ghosts, but nothing was ever found.
Braden had settled into the routine after being my shadow for a week. Now, he had taken over the graveyard shift and seemed quite content with it. Between his work decoding the journals and making contacts on the HAM radio, I think he was actually enjoying himself for the first time in a long time. It was
good for me too. Having him on the roster made it so that Jill and I could actually have days off together again.
There was an excitement building at the ranch. Class 3 was two days away from graduating and they had one last hurdle. The instructors called it the “Fun Run”, the students called it “Pure Hell”. Today began at 2am, it wouldn't end until 2pm, tomorrow. In this final 36 hours of instruction, they would put everything that they had learned to use. Six weeks of training crammed into a 36 hour final exam. It was as much mental as physical, which made it that much harder.
They had been woken up, told to grab all of their gear, loaded into the back of the five-ton trucks and been driven to the top of lookout mountain, 32 miles away by road. When they got there, they were told to leave their gear in the trucks and each squad leader was given a map and a set of coordinates as to where they could retrieve their gear. At the time they didn't know it, but their gear was dropped off 2 miles down the backside of the mountain.
There were five squads and five different drop off points for the gear. They had to locate their gear, retrieve it, complete any special instructions and then begin to make their way back to the ranch. All of the gear had to make it back and all of the different tasks had to be completed to graduate. Oh, and they couldn't be late getting through the gate of the ranch.
It wasn't an impossible task, the previous classes had done it. They would just have to push themselves harder and longer than they ever had. We couldn't give them much of anything for a reward. They weren't military, they weren't cops, they were just people who
wanted to help replace what the EMP had taken from us. Sure, they wore fatigues, used military gear and guns, they even knew most of the military lingo, but they were just people.
I was sitting at the desk in the security shack, lost in my own thoughts, when the front gate called on the intercom. They were giving me a heads up that Major Jackson was headed up. It was a moment later that I heard the distinctive sound of a Hummer pulling into the parking area.
Major Dennis Jackson came through the door of the security shack, he was carrying a small box under his arm. He sat heavily in the chair across from me and put the box on the desk.
“I'm not going to be here tomorrow afternoon when the recruits get back, could you give them their flags and unit patches for me?” he asked. Straight to the point as always.
“Sure. Where are you going?” I asked, slightly puzzled. “You gonna be back for the graduation dinner?”
“Yeah, I'll be back by then. I've been asked to come to the regional command center in Salt Lake.”
“Everything okay?”
“I don't know, to be honest. Last minute shit like this always bothers me,” he said.
“Eh, it's probably nothing. Just some bureaucrat wanting to flex his muscles by getting a bunch of the military types together for a pow-wow. Don't worry about the patches, I'll make sure they get them.”
“Thanks, Jason,” he paused. I could tell there was something else on his mind. “Listen, I'm getting some strange stories coming out of the southern end of the state. Troubling stories.”
“Like what?”
“You know that we'v
e been trying to hunt down the ghost crew that has been stopping into the little towns and asking questions. It sounds like they are pretty well equipped, well disciplined and they are smart. They have eluded us at every turn. Short of some air support, I don't know how in the hell I'm gonna catch these guys,” he shifted in his seat.
“Have they done anything wrong?” I asked.
“Technically, no. I'm just really interested in finding out what they're up to. Why go to the trouble to impersonate our people and operation? Are they planning something? Are they operating alone or is there more than the one unit? I've got a lot of questions, if I can ever catch up to them. They don't seem to be moving north, they are just hanging out down south.”
“Is it the same people and vehicles every time or does it vary?”
“From what I can gather, it's the same people and same rigs. Two Hummers, two five-tons and four six wheel drive MRAP's,” he replied.
“I'd say just ease off of it a little, Dennis. If they haven't done anything really out of line, there ain't a whole lot you can do about it. You said that there were some troubling stories?”
“Yeah, as you know, Vegas has been a hot spot since day one and it hasn't improved, at all. We've tried making some contacts, but they never last long. They just go off the air, never to be heard from again. The place is a damn war zone,” he shifted in his seat again. “I've gotten word that there is a lot of human trafficking going on. I'm not just talking about the sexual type either, straight up slave trading....”
“What?” I blurted out.
“You heard me. One of the local warlords has found a niche selling people to the cartels south of the border. They need laborers and he supplies them. They are also being sold to the gangs in southern California and in Phoenix. It's a pretty big business from what I understand. Sadly, that's not the worst part...”
“There's more?”