A New World: Dissension (20 page)

I’m still awed by the sheer number of night runners in the area.
If they weren’t the only packs out, how many of the fuckers are there?
I’m just thankful we were able to get the walls up in short order and our defenses in place. That many night runners could have gone through us like butter if we hadn’t prepared quickly. I’m also thankful they didn’t gather in a horde like they are now. It would have been over in a short period of time if they had. Even if we had been holed up in the 130, their relentless attacks would have eventually torn through. I’m also fucking thankful they can only come out at night. Again, humankind would have fallen within the first day if they were able to be out any time like us.

The coming of the day reminds me that we’ve made it through another one. We’ve managed to keep one step ahead for yet another turn of the world. And last night, we managed to hit them and hit them hard. At least in our immediate area. Their numbers here make me wonder what it is like in the bigger cities. I can’t imagine the size of gatherings, say, in the Seattle area. Seeing the gathering like the one last night makes me feel that the odds of finding any other surviving souls are drastically low. Yet, we continue to find them in the oddest of places.

A fearful thought occurs,
what if there comes a vast gathering of all of the night runners across the entire area. What if the night runners in the Seattle, Tacoma, and Olympia area gather together in one huge pack?
The thought causes a deep shiver of fear. There’s no way we could combat such a horde as that. While we might have the ammo stocked at Fort Lewis, we wouldn’t get a chance to expend anything close to enough before being overrun. I’ll bring that idea up when we meet next. We may need to develop other ideas to combat it.

With the day light enough to venture outside safely, we make our way to the vehicles. We’ll resupply the Spooky and ready it for another night of work before we travel back south. Driving over and maneuvering the heavy shells from the armory into the back of a supply truck, we manage to restock the AC-130. I pull the tapes and close up the aircraft feeling the tiredness of the long day yesterday and the flight last night. What we saw raises many questions but it was also encouraging to see that we were able to push the night runners farther away. It also felt good to be able to take the fight to them. Perhaps if we can keep that up, we can keep them off balance gaining us more time to fortify. I even think about just taking the Spooky aloft and observing their behavior over a few nights. Any intelligence we can gather will only aid us.

The exuberance we had on the first night out is replaced by one of weariness as we drive south back to Cabelas. I see that same tired look in Robert’s eyes as he rides along beside me but there is also a presence of a certain light. Pride… the sense of accomplishment… confidence, all shine through. I also noticed the ease with which Bri carried herself. It’s as if she was born to be in that seat. And her confidence with her training and experiences has shown itself as well. Glancing into the back, I see she is leaning her head against the door with her eyes closed – fast asleep. I hate this world that I have to bring them up in but I couldn’t be more proud of them. This is a very dangerous environment we find ourselves in but they have adapted well. Again, I hope we find a measure of peace before the constant stress begins to show itself outwardly. We can’t afford to make big mistakes. I can’t afford to make mistakes.

Nearing the off ramp that will take us to Cabelas, I wave at several semis with their accompanying escorts heading in the opposite direction. I’m guessing they are on their way to the distribution center to pick up supplies for Captain Leonard and his crew. The feeling of a nap grows stronger as we draw closer. There is still the debriefing for our flight and then meeting with the group to talk over the night’s events, but then it’s oblivion for me.

I pull in and park seeing people in the training phases on the firing ranges. It won’t be long until we have another group graduating. Then, depending on what Lynn sees, we may be able to increase our team numbers. With the view of the massed night runners last night, we could definitely use as many as we can get. I climb out of the driver’s seat with my bones feeling like they are made mostly of jello. My flight suit smells as bad as I feel. I think that is the only thing keeping me awake right now. Kind of like carrying my own smelling salts. Lynn walks over from one of the training groups and greets me with a hug.

“I love you, Jack, but you’re making my eyes water,” she says into my ear.

“Awww… that happy to see me, eh?” I reply.

“Well, I am but I guarantee that flight suit of yours is going to run away screaming when you take it off. I take that back, it’s already screaming and it will only run away.”

“It’s my new anti-personnel device,” I say, chuckling.

“Congratulations. It’s working. Now go shower and I’ll meet you inside shortly. I’m guessing you want to get the group together to meet,” she says, pulling away with a kiss.

“Yeah. It was an interesting night and I want to get everyone’s take on it before I slip into a coma. See ya in a few,” I reply.

Lynn nods and trots back to the training group. With Robert on one side of me and Bri on the other, we head inside. I’ve seen it a hundred times and thought about it as many, but seeing them walk along with M-4s over their shoulders like it was nothing out of the ordinary still seems surreal to me. In a world filled with the bizarre, it just strikes me as odd and is just a sign of the times we now live in.

Craig and the others of the flight follow in with their gear and we meet up by the table we briefed at the evening prior. Frank joins us as we lay our marked maps out on the table. He has been taking notes from our markings to add to the master map he has in the back of the operations room.

“First of all, I want to say nicely done to everyone. Robert, good job picking up and changing targets on the fly. It can be overwhelming when targets come up suddenly like that and in such numbers. Nice job sorting it out and picking out one group at a time. And noting the buildings they ran into. I can’t say enough about the job everyone did tonight,” I say.

I watch as the confidence I saw in Robert solidifies. There’s a definite light shining through and he has picked up the mantle of leadership well. Yes, there is more to learn but I notice that a definite foundation has been built. I’m happy to see it as who knows just how long I have here. I want to make sure both Robert and Bri have the skills it takes to survive in this world we find ourselves trapped in. I feel more secure seeing those roots take hold and grow.

“So, with that said, what can we do better?” I ask. Silence among the group ensues. It’s the usual response to question like that.

“How were our reload times?” I ask, trying to prompt a discussion.

“I thought they were fine. We didn’t lose any targets because of it,” Robert replies.

“Okay, true. Any difficulties designating targets and getting the guns to bear? How was the lead on the moving targets?” I ask further.

“I thought we coordinated well and it seemed our first rounds hit where we wanted,” McCafferty chimes in.

“Dad, what about hitting multiple targets? I’ve been looking over the systems and we can designate and fire on two separate targets at once. At least if they are in close proximity. We could’ve hit more of the packs when they were in the open if we did that,” Robert says.

“Do you think we’re ready for that?” I ask in return.

“I think we can do it. And we could have accounted for more night runners if we had that going tonight,” he answers.

“You know that if we fuck it up, then we stand the chance of missing the lot of them as we back,” I say.

“I know but I think we can do it,” he replies.

“Okay, you take the fire control crew and run through the systems. Take them through dry runs after we get some sleep. If we decide to head out again tonight, we’ll leave early and practice on the range,” I say.

“Okay, Dad.”

“Anything else?” I ask.

No one replies and we separate, some heading to the showers and others drifting upstairs for a bite to eat. Before leaving the table, I wrap my arm around Bri’s shoulder.

“I just want to say very nice job tonight. You handle those systems like you were born for it. I’m very proud of you,” I say. She looks up and gives me a smile of appreciation.

“Thanks, Dad. It’s not that hard and I love flying with you,” she says.

Her smile warms my heart. I head off to the showers to try and remove some of the stink I’m carrying around with me. It suddenly dawns on me that the reason everyone didn’t talk during the debriefing is because they wanted to get away from my proximity as soon as they could. I can’t say as I blame them much as I’m trying to get away from me just as quick as possible.

The hot water flowing over me not only cleans the grime off but I also feel some of the stress that formed over the past couple of days flow down the drain. I still feel tired but lighter and more refreshed. Finishing, I dress and head upstairs to catch a bite before meeting with the group. I’m then finding my cot and fading off for a year-long sleep.

Sitting with Robert, Bri, and the rest of Red Team, I listen as they tell various war stories; both recent and past. Although the kitchen crew manages to make quite tasty meals, I barely notice as thoughts race through my head. The thoughts are very scattered with none sticking around for very long before being replaced by another. I glance toward the front door and the daylight pouring in through the entrance windows.

I notice, in an abstract manner, the periphery close in. The gray light filtering in seems to zoom into focus and I feel myself rush forward into the light as if speeding through a tunnel. The light vanishes.

“Jack… Jack…Come back, Jack,” I hear Lynn say as if from a distance.

I feel the reverse of what drew me into my reverie; rushing backward through a tunnel. My surroundings slowly resolve and clarity returns. I shake my head clearing the reverie.

“Welcome back,” Lynn says.

“Wow! That was bizarre,” I say, looking down to the half-eaten sandwich sitting in my hand.

“What?” Lynn asks.

“Oh, nothing,” I reply. “Are we ready?”

“Yeah, everyone is gathered,” she answers.

(For the story and world where Jack ventured to during this dream-like state, look for the collaboration novella with Mark Tufo, “A Shrouded World”,where Jack meets Michael Talbot.)

Plodding over to our meeting area, I have Frank bring up a monitor and tape player. I put in the tapes we recorded last night and show them the sudden appearance of the night runners.

“Holy shit!” Drescoll exclaims as the screen turns white in almost the blink of an eye. “There must be thousands of them.”

I look at the rest of our group with their jaws hanging open at the sight. Frank asks for a rewind and plays it in slow motion watching their emergence. He begins taking notes. Several smiles paint the faces of the group as the tape plays forward to our engagements. The flashes and prone bodies are portrayed on the screen in stark detail. I feel a moment of sorrow as these were once humans and, at least on the screen, they don’t look any different. An image of Nic flashes through my head and the sorrow is short-lived. As I said to Bri seemingly so long ago, we can never feel sorrow for these creatures. They are as dangerous a foe as humankind has ever faced. The tape finishes.

“So, it appears the night runners have gathered into much larger packs,” Frank says. “If I were to hazard a guess, those we saw on the screen would pretty much represent the entire number of night runners in the area.”

“Do you really think so?” I ask.

“Well, I want to take a closer look today to get an exact count, but with the percentages we have from the CDC and knowing the previous population, I would say it’s close to the amount we’d expect. I mean, there have been losses but from what I saw, I would say they have all gathered together. I can give a better answer after I look it over,” he answers.

“Okay, let’s look at it another way. How many survivors do you think there really are? Forgive the pun, but what’s your frank assessment?” I ask.

“Like I’ve never heard that one before. Well, again taking the percentages into account against the presumed losses, I would venture there is less than one-half of one percent left. I have been trying to come up with a trend regarding locations for the survivors, but if there is one, I haven’t found it. My best guess, based on the factors of night runner gatherings, is most are in rural areas but we’ve found survivors in the urban districts as well. It may be that we have primarily conducted our searches there. We may want to extend our searches into the rural areas but my feeling is that, seeing the ones in the rural regions will most likely survive longer, we should still concentrate our searches to the urban areas,” he replies.

“What about with the large gathering?” I further ask.

“Well, if they are gathering in hordes like that, I would put the chances of other survivors where they are at close to nil. Those left alive will be found and, with those numbers, will be quickly overrun,” Frank replies.

“And the chances of similar gatherings like those we saw last night?”

“If it’s happening here, then I would say we’d have to expect it elsewhere. It seems to be in their nature to gather. With what we’ve witnessed in our outings, it seems that the night runners gather around a leader. We don’t know how that is chosen. It could be strength, intelligence, or some other factor. If they have gathered together in that large of a pack, then I would guess it would have to be around a very strong leader,” Frank responds.