The areas we cover give the same picture; streets filled with scraps of paper, parked cars, seemingly empty buildings with their dark windows staring back. With the gray skies and drizzle coming down, it truly looks like an alien world. Like ours but with the lack of movement or people about. It has a very depressing nature about it. It makes me thankful that it’s not like some books I’ve read where there is only one person left. Nice to think about but it would absolutely suck. We are social creatures by nature, with exceptions, and the lack of social interaction would drive anyone crazy in a short period of time.
We finish with the east side of town and overfly some of the outlying areas. We broadcast but the extra flying is to give Robert some stick time. He’ll be starting phase two of his training shortly and I want to give him whatever training I can while we are able. After he and Bri finish with that training, I’ll also be taking them out for some additional training. Bri brought that up again last night during our evening time together. Her arm seems to be healing to a degree now that she has a proper splint on it. She’ll be able to attend the class part of her training and thankfully that is mostly what phase two involves with some walk-throughs of what they learned.
We head up north to refuel and make our way back to the base. We spot several trucks on the Interstate, with their accompanying Humvee escort, as the drivers continue their training. The drizzle has turned to rain as we land in the parking lot, the wash from our rotors driving sheets off the pavement. I make a mental note to change out our helicopter after tomorrow’s flight. I have no idea what maintenance is required per flight hour with these, or really anything else for that matter, and I’m not into finding that answer the hard way.
The parking lot is empty as we make our way inside. I brief Frank on the areas we covered and grab a bite to eat. It’s early afternoon and Lynn is getting the teams ready to rendezvous at the mall. I don’t expect much but at least it’s a start. We should be able to cover a wide area before Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie teams arrive back. Then, it’ll be a busy time again. Bannerman informs me that Watkins and the others are having a more difficult time getting parts of the wind turbine taken down and loaded. They’ll be a few more days at least. They report that it’s been quiet around them in regards to both people and night runners. Their food and water is holding out but he notes they should have brought more clothing. I can only imagine what the inside of the Strykers are like at night.
Lynn gathers her Black Team along with Horace’s Blue Team. I hope that’s not an ominous sign — Black and Blue Teams. I am taking Red Team. Outside, the rain brings that smell that a first rain brings; the smell of freshness. The plants and trees give off their scents of joy in response to the refreshing water. I am not as joyous with the rain as I’m not particularly fond of getting wet. I’ve lived in the Northwest long enough to get my fair share so if I were to give off a scent, and I do often, it would be more one of dread and yuck. I wonder what smell hunkering down and trying to pull your collar over your head gives off. We board the buses and, along with three Humvees, start the progression south.
The rain lightly pounds against the metal roof and comes in through the top hatch. We have the gun manned so the warmth and shelter from the downpour one expects in a car is sorely lacking. Our tires purr on the wet highway. We come to the slight blockage of cars as we near the hospital off ramp and pass slowly by. Streaks of water pour off their windshields and rear windows. Some, with their windows down, absorb the water inside. It won’t be too long before these become rusted heaps in the road. The salt air and constant rain of winter will see to that in short order. That’s why we’ll have to get the secure areas in place around the vehicle depots at Fort Lewis soon; so we can park as many vehicles as we can indoors.
We pull off the freeway and make our way through the main boulevards until we reach the mall and park by the main entrance. I note the broken glass doors in front. The hair on my arm and neck come to attention as I know what that means or at least think I do. Night runners are inside. It could be from people scavenging but I’m not really interested in finding out for sure right now. We make sure to stay a distance away from the doors just in case it happens to be a marauder home. I radio base and leave a message for Frank to annotate this as possible night runner location.
We have arrived a little early and don’t sight anyone in the lot. Lynn sets a perimeter with her and Horace’s teams. The Humvees are parked in a circle around the buses with Henderson, Denton, and McCafferty manning the M-240’s on top. The rain lets up and a hole opens above us sending beams of sunlight down onto the paved surface. Wisps of steam rise slowly from where the sunlight strikes the wet surface. The day isn’t cold but warm and humid. Stifling almost but the sunlight feels good. The cooler rain felt good at first but that quickly passed.
Lynn is on top of a Humvee surveying the area with a pair of binoculars. A flock of crows heads across the lot on their way to a destination only they know. They rise above a line of trees marking the south end of the large lot surrounding the mall and are lost from sight.
“Anything?” I call out. She shakes her head and continues her surveillance. Lynn gives note of a pack of dogs trotting up one of the streets nearby but that is all she calls out. The minutes pass without seeing a soul.
“There’s someone coming up the road on a bicycle,” Lynn calls out startling us from our reveries. It’s not that we aren’t paying attention; it’s just that our thoughts meander when we’re still for a period of time.
“Wait, there’s a couple more behind also on bikes. They just rounded the corner,” she adds.
We turn in the direction she is pointing and see four people pedaling with effort up a short hill leading to the mall. They see us parked in the lot and stop. The person in front points us out to the others as they catch up. They start off again heading in our direction. It soon becomes clear that it’s a man, a woman, and two children, if children is the right word. They look to be in their early to mid-teens. They pull up at the edge of the lot and the man pedals forward.
“Are you the ones who gave the announcement earlier?” The man asks. I can tell he is wary by the way he left what is apparently his family at a distance. Not that it would do any good seeing we have vehicles but it’s a cautious move nonetheless.
“Yeah. Nice to see someone else has made it. I’m Jack,” I call out.
“I’m Calvin. Well, people call me Cal,” he shouts back. He doesn’t make a move toward us but stays in place straddling his bike.
“You’re welcome to join us, have a bite to eat, or just chat. You and the others with you won’t be harmed,” I say.
I see some hesitation but he lays his bike down, points to the others telling them to stay put, and walks into our circle. We shake hands and introductions are made. Gonzalez brings over a MRE and hands it to Cal. He tells us of their story of barricading their second story apartment and surviving night after night of night runners. He doesn’t use the term night runners but picks up on it as we mention it. Each day was filled with scrounging what they could from the corner marts and gas stations and repairing any damage to their fortifications.
We give a short version of our experiences in return. He waves his family over following and we are introduced to Janet, his wife, Peter, his fourteen-year old son, and Mary, his seventeen-year old daughter. They each take a MRE and devour the contents in no time flat. They agree to come with us as the thought of shelter without the nightly attacks is very much agreeable to them. Cal tells us it was only a matter of time for them and they feel lucky to have made it this far. There were a few others holding out in the same complex but they were overrun a while ago. As far as they know, they are the only ones left.