“Okay, those of you inside, it’s your turn,” I shout.
“Who are you?” A male voice asks.
“I’m Captain Jack Walker. I want you to lay down your weapons and come out single file showing your hands,” I respond.
“How do we know you aren’t like the others and just trying to lure us out?” The voice says.
“I guess my word is all I have. That and a 50 cal Stryker parked up the road,” I state.
“Works for me. We’re coming out.”
I watch as three men and two women emerge from inside with their hands raised. I don’t notice any weapons immediately visible. They spread in a line near the front.
“Is that everyone?” I ask.
“This is it,” one of the men answers.
“Okay. If we go in and find anyone, and we will go in, they’ll be treated as hostile. That means…” I say, leaving the statement hanging.
The small group in front of us looks at each other. I see the man doing the talking emit a sigh and his shoulders sag slightly. “Fred, Jim, come on out,” he says, looking over his shoulder. Two additional men exit the store.
“That’s it,” I say.
“Yeah, that’s everyone,” the man replies.
“You’re sure this time.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. This is all of us.”
“Greg, Henderson, and Denton, keep us covered. We’re moving to the group. Keep an eye out for the ones who fled,” I say over the radio. Greg and the others respond positively.
We leave our cover and approach the group cautiously. Gonzalez and McCafferty frisk each of the people as Robert, Bri, and I cover them. No additional weapons are found with the exception of a few knives and survival tools.
“Okay, and you are?” I ask.
“I’m Carl and this is…” he says, introducing the rest of his small group.
The group seems okay and we have them covered regardless. I have Greg move the Stryker past us to the main intersection of town just a block away. He’ll keep watch in that direction with Henderson and Denton providing cover behind us. I’m still not sure how fast the other antagonistic group will recover and respond, or if they even will, but the leader will want to save face somehow. I’m guessing they will return to whatever hideout they happen to have if they want to rearm themselves. Sitting out in the open like this isn’t giving me warm, fuzzy feelings so I want to make this quick.
“So, Carl, what’s your story?” I ask. I can tell he is hesitant about revealing anything but looking around at a dozen well-armed soldiers who happen to have a Stryker as a pet and the fact that we haven’t harmed him or his group seems to loosen him up.
“We have a place not too far away up in the hills. We are fairly self-sufficient and prepared to some extent for this. Occasionally though, we come down into these small towns to scavenge for supplies. Great Falls was overrun almost immediately so we avoid that place like the plague, pun intended,” Carl says. I give Carl and his group a quick rundown of our story, including the reason we are here.
“Sorry to give you bad news, captain, but no one has been around here in some time. I’m not sure where those other folks came from but they’re new here,” Carl says.
“Are there others in your place? You are welcome to come along with us if you’d like,” I say, explaining what that would entail.
“We have two others watching the place and we’d have to talk it over amongst ourselves,” Carl replies. “If you wouldn’t mind if we talked in private for a moment, we’ll let you know.”
“That’s fine but make it quick. There are still those others around and I’m not interested in finding out what they have for an encore,” I state.
Carl and his group gather together in a circle and I hear their murmurings. I can actually hear their conversation but I tune it out to give them a semblance of privacy.
“Hang tight everyone. We’re having a little pow wow here,” I radio.
Carl and his group finish their conversation and accept our invitation. “Supplies are running low in the area anyway,” he states. “We will need to gather our gear though. Is it okay if we retrieve our guns?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. You’ll have to be quick about gathering your gear. We’re going to search some more here to make sure there isn’t family still around. You can meet us at Malmstrom AFB. Do you know where that is?” I ask.
“Yeah, Captain, I know where that is,” Carl answers.
“Call me Jack. Okay, we have a C-130 parked there by the runway. Do you know what one looks like?” I say.
“I’ve ridden in one way too many times not to know one intimately,” he responds.
“Fun rides eh? Okay, it’s the only one there so make your way there, but be there before dark as we’ll be sealed up by then,” I state.
“You won’t find us out and about after dark. We’ll be there. The others seem to have left us a couple of vehicles here. Perhaps they won’t mind if we borrow them,” Carl replies.
“They don’t look like they’re being used to me. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather get off these open streets. See you soon.”
With that, Carl and his group retrieve their weapons, load up into the vehicles they brought along with a couple of the pickup trucks, and drive down the road we entered on, disappearing around the corner. I have Red Team pick up the weapons dropped by the other group and pile them into the Stryker.
I get with the soldier whose family lives, or lived, here to get directions. Although Carl seemed familiar with the area and what happened to it, it wouldn’t do to come this far and not check for ourselves. I owe that much to the soldier and hope we find his parents alive and well.
Henderson and Denton join us and we load into the Stryker. We turn toward the short bridge and, not seeing any signs indicating weight limitations, proceed across following the soldier’s directions. The town is very small and there are only a couple of crossing streets. We take the first and only left. An alley appears half way down the street and the soldier directs us down it. I do not want to have the Stryker in such cramped quarters as the others are certainly about. Being such a small town, they can easily track our progress and position by the heavy whine of the diesel engine. We park and disembark. I send Greg with the soldier and his team up the alley and to the house in question. I have Henderson and Denton tag along with them in case Greg needs them for entry. I cast out and sense a few night runners in the area but none nearby. It’s almost a relief to feel them. It would be nice if I actually figured out how this stupid thing works.
I send Gonzalez and McCafferty to opposite ends of the street we are on to keep a watch down the streets. They trot off and each finds a position by the corner of a house. The sun has risen overhead and the houses and trees along the street cast very little shadow. Although there is still a chill in the air, it is warming up. One squirrel, perched high in a tree on the corner of the block, squawks madly at our intrusion into its domain. It’s apparently not happy with our being here and is letting the world know.
I take a moment to bask in the rays of the sun shining down on my shoulder. I try casting my thoughts out farther. I sense just a couple of others but find it easier to reach out now for some reason. I cast out farther and farther. I know there are only empty plains around and don’t expect much but am seeing what my limits and capabilities are. I keep going feeling a pressure in my head as I concentrate. I notice the harder I concentrate, the more limited it becomes. I try relaxing and just visualizing. By relaxing, it seems easier to expand and I sense a small group of night runners farther to our southeast. I don’t know if it’s just the area we’re in or whether it’s the night runners themselves that seem to limit this back home. For whatever reason, it’s just easier now. The distant night runners are harder to pinpoint and I can only sense them being in a general direction. The squirrel chirping in the branches above enters my consciousness and I pull back.