A New World: Dissension (16 page)

We snake south down I-5 and through the gates. I have McCafferty and Gonzalez exit on our entrance to the parking lots to direct the vehicles following into a farther lot. I pull into the lot where the other Humvees are parked. The Strykers park adjacent. The large maintenance and vehicle storage garage Bannerman had started is near completion and we’ll soon park our vehicles under cover. We’ll then bring down additional vehicles from Fort Lewis and store them here. Those will be in addition to the ones we now have in the hangars and maintenance buildings up north.

The new group gathers just outside in the chilly, damp weather. With Frank’s assistance, Bannerman makes his way to orient them and assign them places. I know I’m going to hear about the overcrowding and barracks at our meeting. And, to be honest, with the new additions, it’s time we address it. With the winter and shorter days coming, meaning longer periods crowded indoors, tempers will flare. Bannerman was right to bring this up early on. It just seemed like there was always something else to do. There still is and I don’t see how we are going to be able to do this with everything else, but we also have more hands to help. And, we now have a doctor and another pilot. Not that the pilot aspect will be useful for much longer but we can rig speakers up to a light aircraft and cover more ground in our search for other survivors.

With Sam’s group, we are now around two hundred and fifty people. I’m not sure of the exact number on a sub, but if Captain Leonard joins us after his trip, that number could reach four hundred. That’s enough to do some serious work in a hurry. I almost wish that Leonard wasn’t heading back out. Although it would be nice to have more intelligence on what is going on in other places, he has a crew trained in a variety of useful areas. It will be nice when he returns. Hopefully he will see for himself what is going on and relax some on the rank thing. I once again wish there was someone with qualifications to take over. I’d like to just take a backseat for a while on the other hand, I also know that isn’t in my mentality. No, we push on, build a secure place around us, make it survivable in the long-term, and then I’m grabbing my fishing pole. Yep, with a hammock and a cooler at my side. I sigh at the pleasant thought knowing that’s what it is – just a daydream of things that will never be. I close my door and head inside with Robert.

* * * * * *

Captain Raymond Leonard watches as the Strykers and Humvees carrying Captain Walker’s troops drive up the paved street and vanish over the ridge. The sounds of the vehicles gradually fade until only the sounds of the lapping waves are heard. He thinks over the interesting morning and conversation. Interesting is putting it mildly. He lost seven crew members today because of his decision. He realizes now that he dove beneath the waves off the Philippine shore and rose to a completely different world, one he would never have imagined possible and doesn’t quite understand. The world he once knew and loved being a part of has disappeared to become an alien one. He has a fleeting thought of staying until he understands better what they are facing but he needs to see it for himself, and not just this little corner. His mind still can’t wrap around the idea that this is world-wide.

“Come on, chief, let’s get below,” he says, turning toward the gangway.

“Aye, aye, sir,” Krandle replies, turning with him.

Back on the bridge, Leonard watches as the crew leaves the deck to the stations or quarters below with the exception of those casting the lines off. Backing slowly away from the docks he has docked at for years, he clears the nets and turns the Santa Fe into the channel. As they make their way across the gentle waves, he briefs his XO on the events. Leonard knows that the scuttlebutt will be making its rounds among the crew about now.

“Are we going to close the nets, sir?” his XO asks.

“No. There’s no real need now,” Leonard states, understanding the finality of his statement. With those words, his mind shifts away from the world he was has known.

“Sir, shall we prepare to dive the boat?” The XO asks.

A melancholic feeling settles within Leonard. “No, XO, we’ll make the run on the surface. I want to see things with my own eyes and feel the fresh breeze for once. It’s not often that we’ve had the chance to do this and I want to enjoy it.”

The sad feeling departs to an extent as he looks over the black hull of his boat making its way into the strait. The pride he has always had with his sub rises as does his love of the sea; his love of all waters. It’s in his bones and he’s loved every minute at sea regardless of the situation or mission. He’s always run a tight ship and it shows. He’s proud of his boat and his crew. They’ve made it through many sticky situations before and they’ll make it through this one. Fresh supplies will be his only problem. Maybe they can keep coming back here and restocking. He’s not sure how many supplies Captain Walker and his soldiers have but they seem confident enough with what they have. He likes the captain but turning over command, his command, to someone else goes against every fiber he has.
Maybe that will change
, he thinks as the fir-clad shore slides slowly by.
They seem to be able to handle themselves well, even if a little on the cocky side, including
that sergeant he had in charge
. He chuckles as he knows that definition applies to him as well.

“I’m going below for a moment to make an announcement. Keep us off the rocks, please,” Leonard says to his XO with a grin.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

In the control room, Captain Raymond Leonard, commander of the fast attack sub, Santa Fe, picks up the mic about to make the strangest announcement of his life. For one of the few times in his life, he feels at a loss of words. There’s so much to say yet so little.

“Attention all hands, this is the captain speaking. I’m sure you have all heard a story or two by now. I would delay this until the stories get really good and run a contest on the best one but I’m sure the one I’m about to tell you tops them all… As you may already know, we lost seven good men today. Men we lived beside, laughed with, and counted on. There will be services held on deck at 15:00. Now, for the rest. At some point during our transit across the pond, the world was stricken by a flu pandemic. The resulting vaccine caused a seventy percent mortality rate world-wide. A further almost thirty percent have met with changes that render them hostile and ferocious. They can apparently only survive at night and live in the left over darkened buildings. A mere one percent of the population has survived. We have met with a surviving military unit and are traveling to be resupplied. Following that, we will sail down the western seaboard to investigate. I know that many of you will be worried about families and we will gather information as we can. Right now, we have to stick together as we always have if we are to survive. We are each other’s family. I know you will each do your duty as you always have. That is all.”

He hangs up the mic knowing that it will be difficult for a lot of them. Most of the crew are young and will have wives, kids, and parents that will weigh on their minds. Some will want to jump ship when they put into ports. He’ll have to post lookouts to prevent that and talk with the chaplain. He can’t have the crew leaving. If too many in critical positions leave, it will leave him and the others stranded.
We have to prevent that at all costs
, he thinks, climbing back to the bridge. He gives a momentary thought to his own mom and sister so far away in Kansas. He silently sends a prayer aloft for their safety.

* * * * * *

The captain’s announcement fades away. Vance Krandle sits with his team in the enlisted mess. They crowd around one table staring at the speaker before glancing at each other. Silence accompanies the end of the speech as each is lost in their own thoughts pondering the implications of what they just heard. CPO Krandle’s thoughts go back to that fateful evening seemingly years ago when he watched Gold Team get taken down. He replays the events and remembers the hordes that easily overwhelmed his teammates.

His memory jumps to seeing the dozens of creatures that Captain Walker and his teams call night runners lying in the warehouse. Knowing what they were facing, the sergeant still went into the warehouse to save the sailors inside. That took a lot of guts and he’s not sure he could have done the same. Well, he knows he would have but he wouldn’t have been comfortable with it. He still has nightmares of that night in the Philippines when he and Gold Team were taken by surprise. He also knows that the captain and his people they met only a short while ago have their act together and know what they are doing. He wonders briefly if he made the right choice in staying. There is a very thin line between loyalty and survival. It’s only the camaraderie of fellow soldiers and the desire to help those in need that keeps the fear at bay. It’s a desire that lies deep within the core of a person. That very thing is why he and his team are sitting where they are. He knows that the submariners will need them.

“Do you think we should have stayed with that Captain Walker and his crew?” His point man says, breaking the silence.

“You know why we’re here and why we’re needed. We’ll join up with them soon enough,” Krandle answers and proceeds to tell the deal he made with Captain Leonard.

“What about our families? Do you think we’ll be able to call them or given time to go see about them?” The point man continues.

“I don’t know. I’m sure the Captain will let us make the attempt if there’s time. And, from what I gather, there isn’t any electricity so that means no calls. But right now, our place is here and we’ll continue to look after each other as we always have,” he answers. They’ve always been tight and all nod at the reply.

“So any clue as to what we’ll be doing?” Krandle’s XO asks.

“My guess is we’ll be reconning ashore wherever the captain decides to investigate,” he responds.

“And the ROE (Rules of engagement)?”

“We’ll define that as we proceed. It’s pretty apparent we don’t want to be ashore at night and there may be civilians to think about. And we are not going into darkened buildings if we can at all help it. You saw the warehouse. If we’re fired upon, that’s an obvious one, but we’ll try to make contact first. However, under no circumstances will we endanger the team. If possible, we pull out if engaged,” Krandle answers.

“So, we’re playing it by ear then?” The XO states.

“Pretty much.”

“That sounds super fun,” the point man says sarcastically. “I hope we brought plenty of ammo.”

“Stow it, Speer. And I’ll be talking with the captain to put in a request for ammo and spare parts.”

Krandle looks around the table at his team. Speer, his point man and their resident joker, grew up hunting in the Ozarks. He can track with the best of them but his attitude and seemingly constant sarcasm grate on Vance at times. However, when on a mission, he keeps that at bay and there isn’t a better point man in the business. He is at home in the outdoors.

Ortiz runs slack (second position) and the little Puerto Rican is the picture of fury incarnate under fire. Perhaps it has something to do with his growing up in the east LA area. It has taken Krandle a while to bring that aspect of him under control but he has been able to tame that to an extent. Krandle walks third in line and likes to carry his own radio.

Blanchard, the designated medic is a skinny, quiet, unassuming kid from south Chicago. That quietness is belied by an internal fortitude. He will, without hesitation, venture into the thickest of combat to help a fellow team mate. Blanchard is also the one mostly on the end of Speer’s barbs to which he will look up and merely shrug. Speer will sometimes go at great lengths to invoke a reaction from Blanchard but has been unsuccessful to date. Of course, their tightness makes these attempts good-natured without causing a fracture within the group.

His XO, Franklin, walks fifth in line and carries the spare radio. The black petty officer from Atlanta is one sharp tack and will make a fine team leader someday. Well, would have. His actions and speech seem slow and he is often thought of that way. That is until he spins circles around those who think this with his logic and thinking.

Bringing up the rear is Miller. A full-blooded Sioux who grew up in South Dakota. He rarely speaks and even then, his replies are only a few words. Krandle is sure there are weeks when Miller’s word count never exceeds double digits. But he is a master at covering their back trail. There were times when they had to backtrack and were unable to do so via any signs of their passage. He is that good.

Together, they make one hell of a fine team. They are fortunate to have been able to work together and be a team for some time. They have fused into a single organism, each knowing the others thoughts and actions; knowing each other’s strengths and weaknesses. If anyone can make it through what they are facing, it’s them, and Krandle feels fortunate to be a part of them.

Downing the last of the sludge the bubbleheads call coffee, Krandle says, “Okay ladies, let’s see if we can go topside and take a look.”

* * * * * *

Feeling tired and drained from the busy morning, there’s nothing I want more than to drop down and take a nap. However, I pull the command group together in order catch everyone up on today’s events. Those who went with on our excursion slump wearily into their chairs. There is a clatter of noise as Sam’s group arrives inside and arrangements are made for them. With the new arrivals, it becomes increasingly cramped. Bannerman and Frank arrive and both sit with heavy sighs. I proceed to give an overview of the morning and ask Bannerman to include weapons and ammo in the supplies being readied to deliver to Captain Leonard and his crew.