A New World: Awakening (41 page)

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Authors: John O'Brien

BOOK: A New World: Awakening
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“I’ll be there tomorrow, hon,” I say into the sky as the sun drops below the horizon and we seal up for the night.

 

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The night before, toward the end of the hunt, Michael felt a huge pull in the recesses of his mind.
 
He was enjoying the thrill of being on the hunt; chasing down prey and running under the night sky.
 
Even though that part of him was tucked away in the back of his mind, he felt a call of anguish and fear.
 
Opening up, he searched and focused on the source of the pull.

Images of fear and frustration surfaced from a large pack, actually several packs co-located in one lair and unable to leave.
 
Trapped and hungry, they were close to succumbing.
 
Michael knew he didn’t have the time to make it as they were a distance away.
 
Instead, he sent the images of alternate food sources wrapped in the packages he’d found.
 
He told them to hang on and he would be up the next night to help if he could.
 
With that, he shut down and finished his hunt with the lightening of the sky chasing him back to his lair.

Tonight, Michael sets out immediately north to where the trapped packs are located.
 
It will take some time and he may have to find another lair for the evening.
 
It takes him over two hours to reach their location.
 
He arrives tired from jogging this far but it’s really not much farther than what he usually travels on the nightly hunt.
 
Finding that the large lair is encircled by a wall similar to the one at the two-legged lair, Michael sends images to the packs inside that he is there and trots around the entire circumference.

Close to the end of his trek around, he comes across one of the strange vehicles the two-legged ones use.
 
It stretches high into the air a little away from the wall.
 
He wants to see what is inside and scales the vehicle to get a better vantage point.
 
On his perch, he sees over the top of the wall and looks into the compound.
 
A large building stretches tall and covers a large area.
 
Many of his kind are standing in the yard and in the parking lot looking in his direction.

They haven’t been able to get out and hunt.
 
He feels their hunger; feels their fear and entrapment.
 
He receives images of them being able to find some packages last night but those were far and few between.
 
What they found kept them alive for another night but not much beyond that.

Michael searches the area for a way out but finds nothing that registers as a solution.
 
One series of synapses fire and he wishes the vehicle he is on was on the other side of the wall.
 
If it was, they might be able to leap the distance from it to the top of the wall.
 
More synapses fire triggering a series of thoughts and ideas that flood his mind.
 
A light flares in his brain and one of the thoughts locks into his head with an almost audible snap.

If they can build something on the other side, they might be able to scale the wall.
 
Michael sends a flurry of images to the others in a simplistic form that they will be able to understand.
 
The gist of which is to gather anything and everything they can find and start piling the objects against the wall; building it high enough so they can climb up and climb over.
 
The packs turn and disappear inside.
 
They return at intervals with chairs, tables, boxes, and a sundry of items.
 
The pile of items quickly grows and eventually reaches the top, to the point where the packs can climb, scale over the top, and drop to the ground.
 
They are free.

He feels the release of their fear; feels their gratitude and eagerness.
 
He also feels the pack leaders wanting to follow him.
 
This causes Michael to pause.
 
He isn’t ready to lead large packs yet.
 
This night and the revolution in his thought processes make him want to stay alone and think about things further.
 
However, here is a large pack in front of him.
 
Settling on a decision, he calls them together and heads south with them following on his heels.
 
The gathering has started.

 

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With the revelation of the night runners and their apparent ability to operate doors, we put chains on the crew doors and ramp, securing them to the fuselage.
 
The controls are infinitely more complicated than just a plain swinging door but you never know.
 
It’s the million monkey’s theory and they could accidentally hit on a series of maneuvers that cause the ramp or crew door to drop.
 
Inside, the night passes quickly and, for a change, we aren’t visited by roaming packs.
 
Perhaps the dead night runner bodies outside are keeping them away.
 
Who knows?

The day dawns and I wake with energy because I know I’m heading home and get to see Lynn.
 
My heart has been aching with missing her.
 
This whole apocalypse thing has really put a damper on her homecoming.
 
Our thoughts of just kicking back and chilling together on her return have not only been put on the back burner, they’ve been taken off the stove entirely.
 
The aircraft are already loaded so it’s just a matter of having breakfast, doing our walk-arounds, and getting airborne.
 
Miguel’s group brought items as well and each aircraft is packed with as much as it can hold.
 
Robert, Craig, and Bri settle into their seats.

“Radio if you have any problem at all and stay out of the clouds.
 
If we run into weather that precludes keeping out of them, divert and we’ll try another day,” I say.

“Okay, Dad,” Robert replies and begins going through his checks.

I settle into the AC-130.
 
The interior of the aircraft is much different than the interior design of other 130’s.
 
The left side of the cargo compartment is made up of the weapon systems mounted on hydraulically operated platforms.
 
A series of racks against the fuselage on the right behind the weapons hold ammo for the guns.
 
This particular model is an newer one with a General Dynamics 25mm Gatling gun which is an electric Gatling gun and has an amazing high rate of fire, one Bofors 40mm autocannon, and one 105mm M102 howitzer.
 
All in all, it’s a lethal weapon platform.
 
A Battle Management Control center occupies the center of the compartment on the right, between the autocannon/howitzer positions and the forward 25mm cannons.
 
The capabilities include day/night radar, all light level TV, and infrared detection.

Greg will be the copilot with both Gonzalez and McCafferty filing the flight engineer role.
 
With the back filled mostly with crates of ammo, we have very few of the passengers on board due to weight and space restrictions.
 
I see the props begin to turn in Robert’s 130 next to us and start through my own checks.
 
The list is different but only in minor ways.
 
I have to basically do most of the items myself so we’re behind Robert.
 
He has his engines fully running when our first one begins its rotation.

Soon we are ready and I follow him to the runway.
 
I see him start down the runway and he is soon rotating into the morning sun.
 
I pull onto the runway and am into the air shortly after, pulling into a trail position behind and to the side as we slowly climb into the bright blue of the sky.
 
Four and a half hours.
 
Please let the weather be kind to us
, I think as we level off.

The return flight is actually a smooth one.
 
It gets a little bumpy as we begin our descent over the Cascades but for the most part, it’s gone relatively well.
 
I call base when we’re about a half hour out and setting up for our approach.

“Jack, it’s good to hear you’re back.
 
Wait one and I’ll go get Lynn,” Kelly responds to my call.

“Jack, I’m glad you’re back.
 
Everything go okay?”
 
Lynn asks a moment later.

“Yeah, just peachy,” I respond.

“Oh great, I know what ‘just peachy’ means.
 
I’m glad you’re back though.
 
I missed you,” she says.

“I really missed you too!
 
We brought extra dinner guests.
 
Can you let Bannerman know to expect more and set some extra settings?
 
We’ll also need some of those school busses to meet us at McChord if you wouldn’t mind,” I say.

“I’ll let him know and I’ll meet you up there.
 
How many have you brought back?
 
How far out are you?”
 
She asks.

“I think our count came to eighty and we’re about a half hour out,” I answer.
 
“It’ll be good to see you.”

“Wow, Seriously?
 
Eighty?
 
That’s pretty amazing.
 
It’ll be good to see you as well, Jack.
 
Okay, I’d better go if we’re going to meet you.
 
See you soon,” she replies.

We land and taxi onto the ramp parking by our old HC-130 friend.
 
Vehicles soon approach with two school busses following.
 
I greet Lynn with a big hug and kiss.
 
It feels good to have her in my arms again.
 
I expect to hear something on the condition of my fatigues and her inability to breathe but she merely looks up with those beautiful blue eyes of hers and smiles.
 
It takes a little while to make the introductions but the people and gear is off-loaded and put into vehicles.

“Nicely done,” I tell Robert with a pat on the back as we close up each aircraft after they are emptied.

“Thanks, Dad,” he beams.

“You too, Bri,” I say.
 
She just gives me her award winning smile.
 
I am so proud of them.
 
We leave the ammo crates on the aircraft as there’s no need to transport them anywhere.

I’m tired and seeing Cabela’s brings a surreal feeling.
 
I’m not sure if it’s arriving back or the past few days that feels surreal.
 
Both seem a little weird.
 
It was only a few days that we were gone but it feels more like it’s been years; kind of like a homecoming after an extended absence.
 
Nothing really looks all that different though.

It’s still early afternoon and I notice a lot of the semis are missing from the lots as crews are off doing their thing.
 
It looks as if business as usual has been going on while we’ve been away.
 
We pull to a stop and begin offloading.
 
Michelle runs out of the building and throws her arms around Robert.
 
Bannerman is also there waiting for us.
 
He introduces himself to the newcomers and takes them away to show them around, brief them, and assign them places.
 
With the influx of people, we are close to two hundred in our group now.
 
Before they leave, I notice McCafferty’s dad approach and thank Lynn for saving his girl.

Lynn and I find some time alone to catch up after things settle down.
 
At first, it is hugs and kisses but then she asks about the trip.
 
I fill her in on our little escapade.
 
She just shakes her head as I retell our story.

“You know, this is not what I envisioned for a homecoming,” she says as I finish the story.

“I know, hon.
 
Me neither,” I respond.

“To be honest, Jack, I’m a little pissed about it.
 
I figured we would have all the time in the world and just relax with each other.
 
You know, wake up and find a nice day to take the kayaks out and shit like that.
 
I’m back and you are traipsing all over the place and I never see you,” she says.

“I know, this is…”

“Shush.
 
I’m talking,” she says interrupting my response.

I give her a big smile.
 
I love the way she does that.
 
She does it in a nice way and without a trace of condemnation or anger.
 
Just her wanting to voice her thoughts and have me listen.

“I wish you’d quit leaving me behind to worry about your sorry ass.
 
I get why but I want there to be a point where you aren’t leaving seemingly all of the time,” she says looking at me as we sit on a curb with the sun rays bathing us.
 
I’m listening but also enjoying the sun and the nice day as it comes without the heat of the southwest.
 
It’s warm, but a nice warm.

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