A New World: Awakening (8 page)

We drive through the empty base that still has a ghost town look.
 
The tall grass of the once perfectly manicured lawns in front of the buildings adds to the effect.
 
The dark windows still look outward giving both a melancholic and menacing feel.
 
I cast my mind outward and have a faint sense of night runners housed within some of the buildings.
 
I feel some of them stir as if sensing my probe.
 
I quickly shunt my thoughts to the back of mind and the feeling of them disappears.
 
I’m not used to this at all and it gives me the creeps.
 
I don’t understand it and am definitely not about to mention it until I do.

The menace of the windows staring back as we pass becomes more and less frightening; more so because I know for a fact that night runners are housed within and less so because of that knowing.
 
Some fear is based on the unknown.
 
Some of the menacing aspect the windows portray is not knowing what is behind them.
 
Knowing diminishes some of that but brings another scary aspect; knowing for sure that they are there.

The tips of the aircraft show behind hangars as we drive closer to the ramp.
 
I look in my side mirror and note the guns on top of the Humvees behind swiveling to the buildings as we pass.
 
Apparently they feel the same menace or are just being cautious.
 
I notice some of the tall grass trampled down in front of the buildings where I sensed night runners.
 
I take note.
 
That will be another indication that night runners are housed within and I put a marker in my mind to mention it.
 
If we didn’t have so much pavement on the earth, we’d be able to ascertain more by the paths the night runners create over time.
 
However, I don’t plan for them to be in our neighborhood for much longer so the thought is kind of moot anyway.

We pull onto the ramp and park behind the C-130 that is going to be our sanctuary for the next few days.
 
The tired feeling is mixed with anticipation.
 
I am also feeling a little nervous.
 
The high clouds indicate a change in the weather coming or that we’ll have enroute.
 
It’s not that I’m worried about flying in the clouds per se but I want to keep an eye on the ground to back up our inertial navigation.
 
I’m sure I’ll feel more comfortable once I can verify its accuracy.
 
Well, I know it’s accurate but I am the type that likes to have that verification, especially without other navigation gear as a backup.
 
Plus, it’s not the best season for venturing to the southwest.
 
My mind is still on the potential for thunderstorms.

The team members begin offloading gear from the Humvees and placing it on the ramp.
 
We’ll load it up once we get the two vehicles we’re taking loaded and strapped down.
 
Robert, Bri, Craig and I head up into the cockpit with the flight planning materials and gear.
 
Setting our gear on the bunk and helmets in the seats, Bri turns on the power so we can start loading our route into the flight computer.
 
Robert steps away from his seat to allow access to the flight computer console.

Shaking my head, I say, “You load it in.”

Robert sits and begins loading the data in, pausing every so often as he tries to remember the various screens and where to input the information.
 
I watch over his shoulder because, well, after all, I’ll be flying in the same aircraft and not all that keen on wandering all over the globe in search of the southwestern desert.
 
Craig crowds in to watch and I give him a heads up as to what Robert is doing.

With the flight plan inputted, we head to the back to load the two Humvees we’ll be taking into the aircraft and chain them down.
 
It’s not the most graceful of maneuvers but we manage to get them both in reasonably straight and secured.
 
We load the gear complete with crates of ammo, food, and water.
 
There isn’t much room left inside when we finish.
 
Red, Echo, and Blue team settle in where they can with most folding down and taking the outside red nylon seats.
 
Gonzalez and McCafferty follow Robert, Craig, Bri, and myself up the steps into the cockpit.
 
Robert moves over to the right seat to take his usual place as co-pilot and buckles in.
 
I tap him on his shoulder.

“What?”
 
Robert says turning around.
 
I merely point to the left seat but he only gives me a look of confusion.

“You’re sitting in the wrong seat,” I say.

Robert continues to look confused but it changes to a startled one as he recognizes what I’m saying.
 
I want him to fly as the pilot-in-command.
 
I direct Craig into the co-pilot seat.
 
I want to give Robert some confidence and for them to work together as they will be flying this one back in a short time.
 
It’s not the most desirable solution but it’s the only one we have.
 
I’ll leave Bri with them and take both Gonzalez and McCafferty with me.
 
It will be busier in our aircraft but it will be manageable.

I look over to the nav station where Nic sat, or at least the seat she sat at in the HC-130, and feel a deep pang of missing her.
 
It seems like she should be with us sitting in her usual place.
 
A tremendous sadness comes over me thinking of my precious daughter.
 
I miss the sound of her laughter and her smile that brightened my life every time I saw it; her dark hair and hazel eyes.
 
I really miss her!
 
Tears well up in my eyes wanting my sweet girl back.
 
“I love you and miss you so much, Nic,” I say quietly before turning back to where Robert, Craig, and Bri are conducting their startup checks.

While not as fast as in previous flights, the checks are accomplished and we taxi out.
 
I am standing just behind Robert and next to Bri in her flight engineer seat.
 
Robert runs the throttles up and we are soon in the air.
 
The clean-up checks proceed smoothly but I can tell Robert is nervous about being in command.
 
His instructions sometimes sound like questions but he is doing a great job.
 
I can kind of understand that though, he is a teenager giving commands to a grown man about flying a large four-engine aircraft.
 
Bri is performing her checks and operating the systems perfectly.
 
I am so proud of them.

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Michael lies asleep in his lair after a successful night of hunting, dreaming deeply of the chase.
 
The lair seems empty after being inhabited only a short time ago by other members of his pack.
 
He continues to assimilate his new memories with the old.
 
His relative awareness grows.
 
He hunts alone at night and shuts himself out from the others; the awareness of them placed to the side but still with a vague perception of them.

He sits bolt upright instantly alert.
 
Something brought him out of his dream.
 
He looks around the darkened room that has grown chillier with each coming day.
 
He sees everything in the room despite the inky black of the interior.
 
Something different brushes his mind.
 
He senses more than feels a vibrating and rumbling noise outside but what catches his attention is that faint whisper in his head.
 
It’s different than the feel and touch of the others of his kind.
 
A second later, he knows it’s one of the two-legged.

He feels a sense as strong as his.
 
Different, yet strong.
 
It was just a light brush but enough for him to become aware of it.
 
He feels confused and intrigued but of worry also surfaces.
 
Michael finds it strange that he can sense one of the two-legged even if just for a moment.
 
He waits for another sensing but nothing appears.
 
The vibration and rumbling fade into the distance.
 
Tiredness from the night’s hunt takes hold once again.
 
He lays on the carpeted floor and falls back to sleep.

Rising with the setting of the sun, he stretches in the dark and readies himself for another night of hunting.
 
Eagerness spills into his eyes.
 
He lives for the hunt and the thrill of the chase.
 
With that feeling inside, he ventures out like he does every night and tests the air for scents.
 
The night has more moisture than those previous.
 
This is good news as the moist air will carry the scent of prey better.
 
He lifts his nostrils to the cloudy night sky.
 
The remembrance of the touch on his mind surfaces and he glances quickly to his left towards the large two-legged lair.

He stands a moment and, although he is eager to be off on the hunt, he knows it will have to wait.
 
The intrigue of that brush speaks louder than his desire for the chase.
 
With a move so quick that it would startle most humans, one minute standing still and the next moving, he lopes toward the lair he has avoided so far.

He keeps his presence and ability to sense others in the back of his mind yet keeps alert as he draws closer to the tall walls.
 
He expects the feeling of the two-legged one he felt to return as he nears.
 
The ability is limited by distance.
 
Not knowing why he sensed a two-legged one, he thinks the distance may limit it even more.
 
He senses nothing as he draws cautiously to the walls.
 
The smell of the two-legged prey behind the walls increases.
 
Their scent is strong in the air, especially seeing they have been there for a length of time.

He looks to the walls.
 
He can’t see any way to scale their heights.
 
He doesn’t hear any of the two-legged ones so throws caution to the wind and takes a running leap in an attempt to reach the top but falls several feet short.
 
He looks down the wall’s length, stretching past his vision, seeing no change in the height.
 
Michael backs up farther and tries again but with the same result.
 
Looking carefully for any hand holds he missed on first glance, he sees nothing he can use.
 
He looks to the ground and begins to dig where the wall meets the tall grass.
 
He manages to get a foot down but has to stop as the soil becomes too hard.
 
The wall follows his path downward.
 
There’s no way under.

Feeling frustration at not being able to sense whatever brushed his mind during his sleep nor gain entrance, he lopes along the wall looking for any change.
 
He circumnavigates the entire boundary without finding any.
 
Picking up the scent of additional prey behind the seemingly insurmountable walls, his frustration increases.
 
The trip around has taken a large part of his time for hunting.
 
The smell of prey is tantalizingly close but he can’t get to it.
 
He knows he must be off if he is to feed tonight.
 
With a shriek of frustration and rage, he lopes into the night to use the last few hours to find food.

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The sun vanishes behind the upper layer of clouds as we begin our climb.
 
I ask Robert to keep us down low and give our sanctuary a low pass; kind of a farewell if you will.
 
He levels off and descends slightly turning further to the south, picks up I-5 and follows it.
 
We are only around five hundred feet above ground; not too low but not terribly high either.
 
The changing weather brings the occasionally choppy turbulence but Robert handles it fine.
 
The walls of the sanctuary come into view and we head directly for the green roof of Cabela’s.
 
Well, not directly at it as that would entail smacking into it.
 
That’s not the optimal idea.
 
Any move in that direction would most definitely garner my undivided attention.
 
We more fly towards it.

As we approach the tall gray walls surrounding the compound, I feel a sudden intrusion into my mind.
 
It’s not like the other night runner’s I have felt.
 
This one is, well, it’s hard to describe, but I would say there is a greater strength to it and, as odd as it sounds, it’s more aware.
 
It’s just a feeling and I only feel it for a moment.
 
As fast as it came, it’s gone.
 
I look immediately out of the left window where the feeling emanated from.
 
Several large stores and strip malls are across the highway from Cabela’s but I pinpoint exactly where the sensation came from.