“Yeah. And the fudge we used to bring home,” he answers.
“That was the greatest. The greatest sugar high and then crash ever,” I say with a chuckle. “The stuff lasted forever. I wonder if there’s any left and if it’s good?”
“Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Robert replies.
“And, we’ll be able to do a little more than browse now,” I say.
“I call dibs on the sniper rifle in the case,” he says grinning.
“It’s yours. Although I think we’ll find a little better if we can get into the armories on Fort Lewis. But if that one is there, it has your name on it.”
The gray pavement stretches before us as we continue south, the shadows of the fir trees lining both sides cast their shadows across the lonely Interstate. Robert and I maintain conversation about events in our past and some of the memories we shared together as we drive on. The Interstate turns off onto Highway 101 and the sun swings behind us as we head west, with the highway eventually heading north. The drive along the highway becomes even more surreal knowing we passed by this way just a week ago. The week has changed both of us from our experiences. We return with more knowledge and awareness but some of that awareness has also added to our stress. The intense experiences make it seem like more time has passed since driving through here in the opposite direction and adds to the surreal nature of our surroundings. Our conversation dies away slowly as we near the turn off to Mom’s house with worry increasing in both of us.
I feel a great sense of loss as we turn off the highway towards the house. The sense comes from the memories of all of the good times I had with Robert as we pulled onto this highway heading for one fun event or another and realizing those drives won’t happen again; those moments of excitement and anticipation of heading to share the day together.
The sun shines through the trees, forming ribbons of light across the gravel road as we approach the driveway. As the driveway draws near, anxiety and fear intensifies. I don’t want to drive the last few feet for fear of the answer I might find. The sound of the gravel crunches under the tires of the Jeep, rebounding off the thick trees at the side of the road, and is the only sound. A terrible loneliness follows along with the slow crunch of gravel.
I turn into the driveway and immediately begin laughing; both from the release of the nervous tension and from the sight in front of me. There is Mom out in the driveway putting grain out for the squirrels and other wildlife. Only Mom would persist in feeding the deer and squirrels in the midst of civilization collapsing. She drops her large bowl of seed and runs towards us throwing her arms around Robert and then me as we step out of the Jeep.
“I thought I had lost you,” she says with tears streaming down her cheeks. She looks around the Jeep and her hand comes to her mouth as if a shock is coming. “Oh no! Please don’t tell me….”
“The girls are fine, Mom,” I interject before she can complete her sentence and with tears in my own eyes. “We found a few other survivors and they’re waiting at McChord.”
“Thank goodness. Did you find Lynn?” She asks still taking in that we are standing in front of her.
“Yeah, we did along with a few of her friends,” I answer.
“I’m glad you made it. I’ve been so worried for all of you.”
“I’ve been worried about you too. How have things been?” I ask.
“Pretty quiet actually. Oh, I’ve heard some of those horrible yowls some nights but they seemed pretty far away. Nothing like that first night,” she answers.
“That’s good. We’ve come to pick you up. We’re planning on turning the Cabela’s into a fortified haven.”
“I can’t leave, Jack. This place will protect me,” she says.
“I know it will Mom but I want you to come with us. This is a lot worse than you can imagine and we won’t be far away,” I respond. She looks over to Robert who nods his head in affirmation.
“Okay, let me grab a few things,” she says picking up the bowl.
“Need any help?” I ask.
“No, I think I’ve got it,” she answers.
She heads inside the house and returns shortly with several bags in tow. Several times during the trip back to the airfield, I catch a glimpse of movement in the rear-view mirror, continuing to look each time but not seeing anything. I stop on the side of the road after the third time waiting to see if something catches up to us.
“What are we doing?” Robert asks as I slow down and start to pull over.
“I think I keep seeing something behind us,” I answer.
“What is it?” He asks turning to look out of the back window.
“Not sure. I just keep catching movement out of the corner of my eye from time to time,” I respond. “It may be nothing but I want to sit here and see if anything appears.”
We sit with the engine idling but nothing materializes. I turn off the engine and step outside listening for any sound that might give an indication that something is coming up behind us. Only the quiet of the morning with the tinking sound of the engine as it cools down disturbs this desolate stretch of road. I think about turning around and heading back but the anxiety over time and the things we need to get done are weighing on me. I resume the drive after a moment thinking it must be the play of shadows through the fir trees with the sun rising higher into the clear, blue sky or perhaps an occasional breeze shifting the branches.
Our journey back is spent primarily catching Mom up with our adventure and sharing the knowledge we have acquired. Silence fills the Jeep as we turn north onto the Interstate and retrace our previous route. Mom stares at the abandoned cars along the road. This is her first time seeing the emptiness of a world that should be filled with movement and noise. For her, like the trees and animals, not much really changed in her life except having to secure the house and not bring notice to herself. Well, that and not being able to go to the store every once in a while to shop for food.
We arrive back at the gate two hours after passing through on the way out. I radio Lynn letting her know we are back. The flight line has undergone a transformation of sorts as I pull onto the ramp. A mixture of olive drab and light brown transport trucks and Humvees are parked in a line to the rear of the aircraft. I glance about the ramp to see if Craig’s aircraft has arrived but it is empty of any corporate jet. I was really hoping to see its presence on arriving. I know Lynn is worried but she isn’t overtly showing it as I see her directing supplies being loaded onto one of the transports.
Parking by the other vehicles, I step out and walk over to where Bannerman is standing near the open aircraft ramp. Nic and Bri rush out of the back and over to Mom, wrapping their arms around her and giving her a big hug. I hear their excited voices behind me as they begin to tell their stories. The gray pavement at our feet is beginning to heat up as the sun wends its way higher into the early summer sky. No breeze moves through the grass on the far side of the runway or disturbs the air around us.
“What do we have?” I ask Bannerman after a moment of watching soldiers load the last of our supplies from the aircraft.
He looks at a clipboard he found somewhere, “Well, water is our most critical element. We have enough for a couple of days without having to get more or finding a source. We have enough food for at least a week although we may get tired of MRE’s. There’s plenty of ammo for the weapons although we don’t have much for the M-60’s on the Humvees. Weapons we have in plenty. One of the things we’ll have to think about is clothing depending on what you want to do with that. That should be no problem depending on what’s left in Cabela’s but if you want us to stay with uniforms, we should see about visiting the clothing store and the division supply.”